


Jedi: Lost Order

by Gearman



Series: Jedi: Lost Order [1]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Extended Universe, F/F, F/M, Force examination, Redemption, Temptation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 58,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22248628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gearman/pseuds/Gearman
Summary: It's been a week since Cal made the decision to leave the fate of the galaxy's know force sensitive children to the Force. If they cannot train the next generation of Jedi, Cal decides that he and friends must preserve what's left of the last generation as well as any remnant of their legacy. Alongside the crew of the Mantis, the Night Sister Merrin, and a redeemed Trilla, Cal endeavors to find and preserve the knowledge of the Jedi and of the Force from the iron fist of the Empire. In hopes that the day will come when the Empire falls and once again the power of the light side is needed to bring balance to the Galaxy. But this mission won't be easy considering that the Empire still very much wants the destroyed Holocron back in their possession and Cal dead, or worse, twisted into something far darker than any but the Emperor could even dream of.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Merrin, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Series: Jedi: Lost Order [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601614
Comments: 18
Kudos: 77





	1. The end of the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is the start of hopefully my attempt at writing star wars fanfiction mostly encouraged by the fact that I will die for the MerrinxCal ship. This story takes place in a bit of an alternate timeline where Trilla survived. What I really want to do with this series is try to examine some of my favorite aspects of Star Wars lore, mostly that pertains to the powers of the Force, especially to non Jedi/Sith. So this first chapter will hopefully go towards setting the state of the Mantis crew just after the destruction of the Holocron and give you a good taste for my writing and what the story has to offer. Thanks for giving me a shot and if you have any constructive criticism then do no hesitate to review this fic!

“Hey! Hey kid!” 

Cal’s eyes slowly opened as the familiar voice drew him back into consciousness. For a moment all he saw was white, but after a few seconds of blinking the whiteness gave way to Greez’s face. When his battered brain finally shook the last bit of white from his perception Cal remembered just why he was in so much pain and why he was lying down. He remembered the assault on the Fortress Inquisitorius, his battle with Trilla, his encounter with that black armored monster, and Cere…

“Cere.” Cal said. 

“She’s alright. She’s alright.” Greez said as a hopeful smile spread across his grizzled face. 

“Boooooop! Boooooop!” BD-1 chirped as he hopped off Greez’s shoulder and onto the cot. 

“You too.” Cal said patting the trusty little droid on the head. 

“Cal.” Greez said putting his hand on Cal’s shoulder. “You did it.” 

“We did it?” Cal asked, a smile to match Greez as he sat up and winced. “We did it.” 

“Oh, be careful.” Greez said as Cal winced again. 

“Where are they?” Cal asked. 

“Well, they’re out there.” Greez said almost being knocked aside as Cal rushed past him. “Whoa! Hold on, wait a minute!”

His protest fell on death ears as Cal limped his way into the common room and down the steps. Cere sat before the lounge table staring at the holocron and Merrin...rushed him and to his surprise wrapped him in a hug. Cal didn’t know what he should react to first, the hug or the pain caused by it. When she let him go and stepped back Merrin avoided eye contact and awkwardly said: 

“Sorry.” The nightsister said apparently not able to decide between looking into his eyes or away from them. 

“That was you in the water, wasn’t it?” Cal asked. 

Merrin nodded. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Merrin said holding eye contact for a long moment before awkwardly gesturing to Greez. “This one wouldn’t leave your side from the moment I hauled the three of you aboard.” 

“Well, how could I, uh, let my favorite botanist alone after all that?” Greez said slapping Cal in the arm. 

“Thanks Merrin.” Cal said laughing a little before he processed the word “three”. “Trilla.” 

Cal looked around the space for a moment and locked eyes with Trilla, dressed in a mix of her inquisitor uniform and bandages, over the Holo table. They looked at each other for a long moment before Cal’s gaze flicked to the stump of her left arm, where the Armored Force user had sliced it clean off above the elbow as Cal pulled Trilla away from being impaled, and back to her face. There was a lot to be said between them, both resented the other in many ways, but there was a sense of cautious respect and gratitude mixed in with that resentment. 

“Kestis.” Trilla said offering him a polite nod before looking back down at some navigation data. 

“Trilla.” Cal said as he turned to look at Cere. 

“Hey.” Cal said as he took a step forward. 

“Hey.” Cere said as Cal took a seat at the couch. 

They looked at each other for a long moment. After all they’d been through together and all that had been said neither really needed anymore. What had almost driven them apart was in the past now and the both of them seemed to understand that together they had done and will do great things. Not a word passed between them for a solid few seconds before Greez cleared his throat. 

“So, now what?” Greez asked. 

“Well Captain.” Cere said looking the Latero in the eyes. “This is the end of my charter, you’ve fulfilled your contract and surpassed all of my expectations and hopes. Thank you Greez.” 

“Well, if it’s all the same to you.” Greez said taking a seat on the couch. “I was thinking that maybe...I could stick around here and take you where ever you need to go. Besides uh...” 

Greez leaned in and fake whispered: 

“The kid kind of looks up to me.” 

“What about that?” Merrin said as she pointed to the holocron. 

“We need to use it.” Cere said looking at the green cube. “With it we can rebuild the Jedi Order.” 

“Dozens of Force sensitive children.” Cal said as he reached forward and activated the Holocron watching it open into a star map. 

“The next generation of the Jedi Order.” Merrin said as she took in the star map. 

“The Empire will be after them.” Greez said. “Just like they’re after us.”

“The Empire will find them.” Trilla said her tired eyes an earrie blue as the light of the holocron reflected in them. “If you...if we gather these children then we must be prepared to fight off armies.” 

“The lives of every child on that list will be forever changed.” Cere said, equal parts awe and apprehension in her voice. 

Cal stared at the map for a long moment. They were right, for better or worse the children on this list would never know their old lives if they collected them. When their journey started Cal had thought this list would be the spark of hope that could one day burn down the Empire. By restoring the order he thought the tide could be turned against the darkness gripping the galaxy, but was that chance worth risking the lives of so many young ones? Was it fair to subject them to what he went through? 

“Not by us.” Cal said drawing his light saber. “Their destiny is in the Force ’s hands now.” 

With a flick of his thumb his light saber activated and a solid blade of yellow light slashed into the holocron destroying the map and snuffing out a spark of what could have been. They stared at the space where the holocron had floated for a long moment. All of them recognized the gravity of what Cal had just done, but none of them had a good counter to it. Not even Cere could fault him for it. 

“So, where to now?” Cal asked his crew mates. 

One week later….

“Cal.” 

Cal opened his eyes and his mind slipped from the calm sea of the Force around him and back into the physical world. Cere was standing at the end opening to the small workshop with her arms crossed and a smile on her lips. This had been there usual training spot since coming back to Bogano and trying to retake and fortify Cordova’s old work spaces. Trilla had assured them all that she’d wiped the Inquisition's logs of the planet to prevent the other inquisitors from stealing any of the artifacts there before she could claim them for herself. 

“I see the new meditation technique is doing you some good.” Cere said as she walked closer. 

“It is.” Cal said, wincing slightly as he stood. His wounds still ached and it was only thanks to the bacta injections and the stims from BD-1 that Cal could walk around as much as he had been. “It’s really helped wile away the time while my wounds heal. Plus I feel a deeper connection to the Force than I’ve had in a long time.” 

“That’s the goal.” Cere said eyeing the Zeffo orb humming above them. “It was one of the last things Cordova taught me before I left him. Said it was a technique forgotten by the council and only practiced by an off shoot of Force users on an ice world no one’s ever heard of. Also raved about their soups if I recall.” 

“Hm, I could go for a bowl of soup.” Cal said as his stomach growled at the prospect of lunch. “Any luck in figuring out if we’re truly secure here?” 

“We’re safe as far as I can tell.” Cere said looking away from the orb and back to Cal. “Imperial chatter is still on the rise after our breach into the Fortress Inquisitorius, but Trilla seems to be telling the truth because I’m not picking up any mentions of Bogano.” 

“That’s good.” Cal said eyeing his friend. “How are you and Trilla doing?”   
“As well as can be expected.” Cere sighed and looked out into the entry way of the work shop. “She’s the Trilla I once trained, deep down I can sense both her and the light she still carries, but there is so much pain and turmoil within her Cal. Even if we have pulled her back into the light, her scars run deep and I have no idea how to help her with them.” 

“We can start by being there for her.” Cal said putting a hand on her shoulder. “Be there for her like you were for me. What ever the empire turned her into is irrelevant now, just like me she was stripped of everything she was, but now she doesn't have to be. It’ll take time, but we’ve got her with us now and maybe that’ll be enough to help her heal.” 

“We can hope.” Cere said before shaking her head. “All we can do is trust in her and the Force.” 

“Boooop!” 

They looked up to see BD-1 come flying down a zipline to land at their feet. 

“Hey BD, where have you been?” Cal asked the bouncy little droid. 

“Booop! Beedepp!” BD-1 answered. 

“How many times I’ve told you to leave the terrarium alone?” Cal asked before raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean Greez said you could?” 

“Beep! Boooop!” BD-1 protested. 

“He’s been on the comms station all morning?” Cal asked looking to Cere.

“Apparently he’s reaching out to some old friends, thankfully ones he doesn’t owe any money to.” Cere said smiling down at the droid before turning back to Cal. “Lunch should be ready soon, why don’t you collect Merrin and I’ll go see what’s got Greez so distracted.” 

“Can do.” Cal said reaching down to allow BD-1 to hop up his arm and onto his shoulders. 

Merrin sat on a rock overlooking a chunk of the Boganoan landscape that intrigued her. It was an isolated plateau in the distance with dozens of small ponds and what looked like muddy quagmires coating almost every inch of space. That in of itself wasn’t what intrigued her even though it was certainly alien compared to her native Dathomir. No, what intrigued her was the strange shimmer passing over the ponds and rocks and the strange feeling she felt in her chest as she watched the plateau's inhabitants, two warring types of amphibian barely tolerating each other, mill about in their ponds. 

The shattered sphere in her hands glowed with a deep green light as she felt the strange energies of this planet flow around her. Like the energies on Dathomir, Bagano’s native spirits and power “tasted” a certain way. Cautiously, Merrin reached out through the sphere and as she did on Dathomir attempted to draw the energies towards her. A strangely electric feeling flowed into her muscles and the orb in her hand glowed with a softer green light as she channeled the energies around. 

“Sisters...” She whispered. “Feel this power, different from our home but alike in a way.” 

Merrin closed her eyes and allowed the powers around her to flow through the crystal and mix with the ichor in her blood. For a moment it hurt, every cell in her body stung as the divergent energies fought a battle cell to cell, but just as quickly as the pain came it went away. She raised the shattered orb and without opening her eyes she saw it shining with a swirling green energy, equal parts the strong dark emerald of Dathomir and the glittering hourbour green of Bogano. 

“I carry you within my soul sisters.” She whispered again bringing the shattered sphere almost to her lips. “Within my blood I carry Dathomir and all of her teachings, but Dathomir no longer contains us. Let our power grow as I have.” 

She pressed the crystal to her lips and drank deep from that swirling well. It flowed down her throat, equal parts boiling and ice cold, and when the energy hit her stomach it bloomed into a thrumming warmth that spread across her body. As the energies bloomed across every cell Merrin felt the tug of a thousand new ideas, unknowingly waking echoes of forgotten rituals of the other tribes of Dathomir calling to her from oblivion. A name appeared in Merrin’s memory, be it a half forgotten memory or the work of the magick she didn’t know. What she did know was that the name was connected to her very blood as it was connected to all the witches of Dathomir.

“Hm.” Merrin said as she opened her eyes to watch the energies dispersed off her body like steam. “Allya...” 

Merrin was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t detect Cal sneaking up on her from behind. Almost. 

“Hello Cal.” She said calmly as she stowed away the crystal. “Time for lunch already?” 

“One day you’ll have to tell me how you always manage to know where I am.” Cal said standing up from his crouch and walked up to her. 

“Not likely.” Merrin said allowing herself a smile as BD-1 hopped down at her feet. 

“Beep! Booop!” The BD droid chirped at her. 

“I still don’t know what you’re saying.” Merrin said raising an eyebrow at the droid. “But, I will assume that was a greeting?” 

“Boop! Beeep!” BD-1 chirped as he nodded vigorously. 

“Well then, good afternoon.” Merrin said before turning to look at Cal. “How are your injuries?” 

“Still hurt but I’m not bleeding through bacta patches left and right.” Cal said rubbing his side. “Plus I can jump more than an inch off the ground without puking, so that’s an improvement.” 

“It is good to hear that.” Merrin said catching her gaze as it slid up and down Cal’s form. “If you would like, I think I might be able to help with that.” 

“Um, sure.” Cal said taking a seat on the rock next to her. “Your Magick can heal?” 

“The Magick can do many things.” Merrin said as placed the shattered sphere between them. “I’m beginning to think that my sisters path was not the only way to correctly use the Magicks.” 

Merrin muttered a small incantation, simple words that bound together into an incantation she’d never tried before. The swirling energies of Bogano flowed around them and into her mixing with the lingering essence of Dathomir in her blood to dance on her words like emerald fire. She reached forward and placed one hand Cal’s side and the other on his cheek. They looked into each other’s eyes as her words commanded the energy to go to work within his body. Binding torn flesh by invigorating cells with new strength and soothing agitated nerves as their breathing synced. 

There was a special energy within Cal, it was like standing near a comforting fire during a wind storm. A persistent presence burning against the swirling energies around them as her energies slipped into his wounds. She looked into his eyes, they were filled with a cautious hope and a curiosity that sparked something in her. Merrin was reminded why she followed him off Dathomir in the first place after defeating the dark Jedi who had deceived her. Here was a man who had handed her his only weapon and trusted her to understand his purpose and intentions. Because they were the same in many ways, survivors of the worst of the galaxy. 

As the wounds knitted themselves back together their energies flowed together. A connection deeper than the physical formed and for a moment Merrin could feel Cal sitting across from her more than she could see him. Static flowed over her skin raising goosebumps across every inch of her body as she unconsciously leaned into Cal. She could feel every thing about him through their connection from the slight blush on his cheeks to the slowly quickening pace of his breathing. The final words of the incantation died on her lips as the energies completed their work, but she did not pull back as they stared into each other’s eyes instead she slid her hand down to his neck and…

“Hate to interrupt.” some one said a few yards away. 

Both Merrin and Cal jumped as if lightning had struck them. Cal practically flipped backward and Merrin had to fight the urge to teleport a mile away. Instead she looked to see Trilla standing beneath the zip line connection to the rock segment they all stood on. The former inquisitor looked at the duo with what could have been called wicked amusement as her gaze moved from a flustered Cal to a stiff Merrin. 

“As I said, I hate to interrupt you two, but lunch is ready.” Trilla said raising an eyebrow as she looked Cal up and down. “And the Latero has some news.” 

“What kind of news?” Cal asked. 

“News is all I was told.” Trilla said turning around to head back to the ship. “Whether it’s good or bad is a matter of perspective.” 

After she left, Merrin and Cal stood alone both thinking about what had just happened between them. BD-1 looked between the two and made soft whirring noises at them both waiting for one to move or look at the other. Merrin looked at Cal and the moment their eyes met she looked away and awkwardly gestured towards the ship. 

“Ahem.” Merrin cleared her throat and awkwardly nodded towards the Mantis. “I will see you on the Mantis.”  
“Uh yeah.” Cal said as he ran his hand down his injured side. “Thanks for the help. I’m feeling...better.” 

“Of course.” Merrin said not looking him the eye. 

In a blast of green and black flame Merrin teleported away leaving Cal alone with BD-1. 

“Beep?” BD-1 asked. 

“I...I’ve got no idea buddy.” Cal said as he tried to shake some of the redness out of his cheeks. 

By the time Cal made it back to the Mantis all of her passengers were gathered around the holo table. No one looked particularly happy as he approached especially not Cere who stared at the display grimly. It depicted a gas giant with eight mid sized moons in orbit around it and despite it looking innocuous enough Cal got the feeling that Cere wasn’t considering it as a vacation spot. 

“What’s going on?” Cal asked as he stepped into the room. 

“Five minutes ago Greez was contacted by an old associate.” Cere explained looking up from the display. “They opened the communication by detailing our exact location and the specifications of the Mantis.” 

“How do they know that?” Cal asked. “And why haven’t we left yet?” 

“So far they haven’t threatened to reveal our location.” Trilla said looking at the Holo table as the display zoomed in on a forested moon. “All they’ve done is make it aware that they know we’re here and made a request.” 

“What request?” Cal asked. 

“Their employer wishes to meet with Cal Kestis as soon as possible.” Cere answered. “The good news is that we think I know who we’re dealing with...” 

“Bad news is we think we know who we’re dealing with.” Greez said shaking his head. 

“What do you mean?” Cal asked. 

“We’ve been sent coordinates for a small asteroid closely orbiting the gas giant Hellara near the borders of wild space.” Cere explained as she adjusted the view past the forest moon to an asteroid hidden behind it. “The Hellaran system is technically under Empire control but the noble families of each planet cut a deal with the Empire that as long as they supply liquid tyranite from the gas giant they can get away with limited self rule.” 

“From what I recall of the Inquisitorial records the Hellaran syndicate, as the nobility of the planets style themselves, is so self involved that they hardly noticed the Empire’s rise until they had storm troopers knocking on their door.” Trilla said as she examined the asteroid. “If I’m not mistaken it was the Blackfires of Karro that united them and negotiated their terms with the Empire. The very same Blackfires who own that asteroid if I’m not mistaken.” 

“You’re right.” Greez said shaking his head as if agreeing with Trilla disturbed him. “That asteroid is Kathis station, named after a Blackfire son who died in a fire a few years back. It was supposed to be a stop off for the gas and metal miners coming home from the harvesters on the gas giant, but after some unsavory types took residence it’s more a lawless hive for mercenaries these days.” 

“Been there recently?” Cal asked. 

“I’ve been there on occasion yeah.” Greez said shaking his head. “Used to have some great gambling parlors and you would not believe the spread on the buffets. Now the only good spread it offers is the selection of spice and bounty hunters.”

“Despite what the Blackfires would like people to think they’re very much aware of what goes on on Kathis Station.” Cere said. “They’ve been funneling millions of credits in illegal goods long before the Empire rose and are rumored to be the shadow backers of the local Mercenary guild.” 

“So it’s the Blackfires requesting I meet them?” Cal asked. 

“We think so.” Cere said as she stared at the asteroid. “I’ve heard their claws were deep, but the fact that they know your name and our exact location doesn’t sit right with me.” 

“Well, look on the bright side.” Greez said with a dark chuckle. “If they wanted us dead we’d already be dead. The Blackfires don’t tolerate so much as a ten credit gambling debt let alone an enemy of the Empire within their cross hairs.” 

“Okay, so we have a very powerful and very deadly family requesting to meet with me specifically.” Cal considered the situation as he spoke and shook his head. “Any idea why?” 

“No, all the message says is that if you don’t show up for the meeting they’ll broadcast our location to the proper authorities and keep doing so until we’re either captured or meet with them.” Cere explained with an exasperated sigh. “I’d have liked a few more weeks to give us time to lick our wounds, but it looks like our hand’s being forced. What do you want to do Cal?” 

Cal considered their options. Even after Merrin’s...healing he was still sore and was in no condition to flee across the galaxy. If these Blackfires had a beat on the Mantis somehow then they could run themselves ragged trying to give them the slip and still be found out. He looked at the people standing around the holo table. They were his crew, his family, and Cal didn’t know if he could submit them to months of playing cat and mouse across the galaxy. 

“Greez.” Cal asked. “Can you get us to this asteroid safely?” 

“As long as Cere is scrambling our signature I can coast right into the docks.” Greez said proudly. “The Hellaran system is one the edges of wild space, so we can avoid Imperial blockades and patrols all the way there.” 

“Alright, We go to Kathis Station and see what these Blackfires want with me.” Cal said looking around the room. “Is everyone okay with that?”   
“Like I said, I’m with you guys all the way.” Greez said patting his chest. 

“I’d follow you anywhere Cal.” Cere said nodding. 

Trilla just nodded and adjusted the bandage on her stump. 

“I will come to.” Merrin said only meeting Cal’s gaze for a moment. “You might need my assistance.”

“Alright.” Cal said nodding to Greez. “Let’s head out.” 

Two days later...

A rumble passed the through the Mantis as docking clamps secured the ship to the docking pad and Cal got up from his chair on the bridge. They’d made decent time from Bogano dipping in and out of wild space to avoid Imperial patrols, but had to spend most of a day sneaking through the Imperial presence at the edges of the system. Once they had passed a thick asteroid belt mid way through the system though the Imperial presence turned into the local system’s security forces which paid no mind to the Mantis as it glided towards Kathis station. 

“Stinger Mantis, this is Kathis station control you’re clearance has been accepted and you are cleared to enter the station.” A grizzled voice said over the ship’s comms. “Welcome and enjoy your stay.” 

“Enjoy our stay he says.” Greez muttered as he watched several dinghy looking storm troopers milling around the docks. “Easy for him to say, the Empire’s not trying to kill him.” 

“Calm down Greez.” Cere said as she watched the four or so storm troopers group together and enter a security booth. “Those obviously aren’t regulars, probably the worst troops get sent here to wile away the hours as a token force here on the station. The real power’s concentrated on the rim of the system or planet side.” 

“Token force or not we need to be careful.” Cal said pulling the hood of his poncho up. “I don’t think more than two or three should go to this meeting.” 

“Agreed.” Cere said looking past Cal to Merrin and Trilla. “I’ll stay here and monitor chatter as well as try to access the station’s systems.” 

“I’ll go with Cal.” Merrin said stepping forward. “There is a feel to this place, it’s not safe to walk alone here.” 

“I agree.” Trilla said stepping forward as she pulled a thick black poncho over her shoulders. “I’ll be going too. If you do run into any Imperial trouble I can help you prevent it from escalating.” 

“Are you sure Trilla?” Cere asked her former apprentice. “Your arm isn’t quite healed and...’ 

“I’m fine Cere.” Trilla said cutting her former master off. “I need to do something of use before I go insane, and this is just the opportunity.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment. Cere’s face shadowed with worry and guilt. Trilla’s defined by regret and need. The others could feel the tension in the air as that long moment passed until Cere sighed and pulled a small blaster out from a nook on her console before tossing it to Trilla. 

“Take this and be safe.” Cere looked at the trio and shook her head. “All of you.” 

“We will.” Cal said patting her on the shoulder as they made for the bulkhead. 

The first thing Trill noticed as they stepped off the gang plank and onto Kathis Station was the smell. During her years hunting down Jedi and other force users Trilla had seen her fill of stations like this one, places where the criminal element of Imperial society had learned to congregate out of the sight of the “proper” authorities. Usually, stations like this one had the same smell, a mix of unwashed bodies, waste, and spice residue, but as she breathed in the recycled air of Trilla didn’t smell sweat nor spice. Instead, the only scents Trilla could smell on the air was caf and industrial cleaner. 

“This is not the hive of villainy it was made out to be.” Trill said as Cal and Merrin joined her. 

“I agree.” Merrin said flipping a hood over her head. “This place feels...controlled.” 

“Looks dirty enough to me.” Cal said making note of the layer of grime on nearly everything in the docks. “But you’re right, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” 

Trilla was about to reply when a hooded figure appeared in the gap between two support pillars. Two white pupils swimming in pitch black eyes regarded the trio from the shadows. On instinct Trilla’s hand went to her hip and sighed when her fingers found a holstered blaster instead of her light saber. The woman cocked her head, allowing her hood to fall revealing an unnervingly pretty dark grey face and white hair. She placed her hands together as if gripping a phantom saber and took a few mock swings through the air. 

“Beep! Booooop!” BD-1 chirped in Trilla’s ear as he hopped onto her shoulder. 

“Yes.” Trilla answered as her shoulders tensed and looked at the droid. “I do suppose that’s who we’re looking for.” 

The grey woman stopped her faux sword fight and gestured for the trio to follow as she stepped backward into the shadow and disappeared. Trilla’s fingers twitched and she felt the urge to pull the woman back from the shadow with the Force. A hunting instinct singed into her brain bubbled to the surface and her lips curled back into a snarl for a moment before she caught her self. She shut her eyes and took in a deep breath through her nose pushing back against the flashes of red and black pulsing there in the darkness of her mind.

When she opened her eyes Cal and Merrin stood in front of her looking at her. Cal looked concerned and perhaps a little afraid while Merrin just examined her with her usual cool bemusement. Trilla looked to BD-1 and sighed as the little droid beeped at her curiously. She looked back to her two companions and for a moment considered smashing the BD droid into Cal’s face before she shook her head.

“Are you alright?” Cal asked stepping over to transfer BD-1 off her.

“I’m fine.” Trilla said as the droid hopped off her shoulder. “Our shady friend over there seems to be beckoning for us to follow, so I’d advise doing just that before we’re questioned as to why we’re standing here like some slack jawed moisture farmers.” 

“Alright.” Cal said eyeing her for a moment. “Let’s head out then.” 

They made there way over to where the woman had been and found that the shadows obscured a maintenance door half plastered over with Imperial propaganda posters. Cal reached forward and pressed his hand against the grimy metal and with a quiet hiss the door sunk away from his touch before sliding into the wall. A blast of chilly air flowed over them and kicked up a small cloud of dust that forced the trio to shield their eyes. When the dust settled, Trilla saw the grey woman was standing just back from the door. 

As her full form came into view Trilla noted that she stood at least a foot taller than Cal and her entire body seemed to be built to carry unnerving grace. Beneath her cloak, Trilla saw that the woman’s thin elongated body was wrapped in what looked like a single black garment folded over and over until it snugly hugged her form. Lithe muscles flexed beneath scarred grey skin as the woman regarded them with the bored curiosity of a feline. Her long fingers were at her side spread wide, but each hand was barely an inch from a dark blue blade on each hip. Something in Trilla’s gut told her that those blades weren’t just for show. 

“Cal Kestis.” The woman said in a voice that was somehow equal parts warm and chilly as she considered them. “And friends.” 

“Yes, I’m Cal Kestis.” Cal said as he looked the woman up and down. 

“Good, we’ve been expecting you.” The grey woman said patting Cal on the head and pivoting on one foot before starting down a maintenance hall. “My name is Acela Eaton, and I’m so happy you made it here without trouble.” 

“Thank you.” Cal said eyeing the grey woman. “It’s ,uh, a pleasure to meet you Acela.” 

“Good to see that the Empire hasn’t robbed you of your manners.” Acela said with a smile as she looked over the trio. “We’ll be taking this old maintenance hall to the meeting, before we head off are any of you hungry? I can send a message ahead to have some food ready, our Veirhorn stew is to die for when it’s fresh.” 

“Um.” Cal said as he looked back to Trilla and Merrin who both shook their heads at him. “I think we’re good, thank you.” 

“Oh pity, we just got a shipment of Veirhorns in from Northtier this morning and we have enough stew to kill a rancor.” Acela said sighing dramatically before pivoting on one foot. “Thought I’m sure you’ll change your mind once you smell some. Follow me please.” 

Cal watched the grey woman start walking before he looked at Merrin and then Trilla. Both shrugged and with a shared sigh the trio slipped into the maintenance tunnel. As soon as Trilla stepped through the door it slid shut silently leaving behind a near flush panel of polished steel. A sense of foreboding slipped down her spine as Trilla turned to follow her companions. Her thoughts wandered back to a dozen situations just like this one, only before now she was usually on the other side of the door, her trap sprung. 

“So, lure Jedi into maintenance tunnels often?” Cal asked as the grey woman led them through the chilly tunnel. 

“Only the living ones.” The Grey woman said as they turned at an intersection. “I’ll be honest with you Cal, my mother in law was not very keen on the Jedi before the purge. It wasn’t often that Jedi found their way to this system even during the worst days of the independence wars. Though a few did make their way here on occasion on Republic business.” 

“What was the independence war?” Merrin asked. “Did that happen before your “Clone Wars” Cal?” 

“No, I think the Clone Wars and the Independence wars are the same thing.” Cal said eyeing the back of the grey woman’s head. “Isn’t that right?” 

“Correct, though the Hellaran system remained mostly loyal to the Republic forces during the worst years of the war let’s just say we tolerated the Republic rather than favored it.” Acela said as they turned a corner into a wider hall lined with glowing power conduits. “But that is all in the past now, long live the Empire and all that.” 

“Ah.” Cal said as his hand came down to rest on his light saber. “Changing the subject, you mentioned your mother in law, she wouldn’t happen to be the person you’re taking us to see would she?” 

“Yes, Arch Duchess of Karro and mother to all the children of Karro.” Acela said with faux reverence. “I’m married to her youngest daughter.” 

“It seems you’re moving up in the galaxy, Cal.” Trilla said a bitter chuckle on her lips. “A private audience with the leader of an entire planet, how honored you must feel.” 

“Yeah...” Cal said shaking his head. “I hope it’s not too much to ask, but has your mother in law’s opinion on the Jedi improved?” 

“Not at all.” Acela chuckled as they emerged into a spacious oxygen garden manned by several small ramshackle agriculture droids. “But you Cal Kestis are unlike any Jedi still alive, well, in Granny’s eyes at least.”

“Why is that?” Merrin asked.

“Unlike the Jedi, Cal here seems to actually be useful.” The grey woman said as they passed through a low arch way and into a narrow hall leading towards a heavy blast door. 

When they arrived at the door, Acela knocked on the door and waited for a reply. A series of clicks and bangs came from the door as the internal mechanisms switched on and with a clunk a small view port at the top of the door opened and an umber skinned human looked out at them. His brown eyes considered them for a long moment before he spoke in a voice so posh that it rivaled most Imperial officer’s: 

“What is the password?” 

“Lobe, my rancid little pond lilly it’s me.” Acela said rolling her eyes. “Let us in, I have Granny’s queries.” 

“Sorry Acela, but rules are rules.” The man, Lobe presumably, said closing the opening. 

Acela’s back muscles twitched for a moment and Trilla eyed the woman’s hands as her fingers ran up the dark blue blades on her hips. Trilla sensed something from the woman, not quite anger, but most definitely annoyance tempered by an ice cold control. For a long moment the grey woman stared at the door and her fingers lingered on the hilts of her blade for a solid ten seconds. With a sigh, Acela released her grasp and knocked on the door again. When the view hatch opened she spat: 

“The womp rats are handled and the cubbard’s clean.” 

“Now was that so hard?” Lobe’s said satisfied as the door’s lock released and slid into the wall. 

“No it wasn’t.” Acela said as she plucked something from a pocket and slammed it into the man’s throat sending him sprawling to the floor. “And neither was that.” 

Acela stepped over the coughing man, who had been downed by a small bean bag Trilla realized, and led the trio into a cozy bar built into the interior of a massive gas storage container. More humans sat around drinking or smoking as they murmured to each other. Each was dressed in a crisp red trimmed black uniform bearing the insignia of a red fist clutching a burning black ember. Almost everyone of them had a heavy side arm strapped to their thighs. 

A red spray painted K1 droid stood behind the bar mixing a drink while several servers, all apparently the same species as Acela, milled about delivering drinks and food. Soft music played from somewhere in one of the shadowy corners of the make shift bar. As they walked through the bar a delicious smell filled their noses and Trilla spotted what had to be a massive pot of the fore mentioned Veirhorn stew simmering over a re purposed imperial field cooking stove.

“Nice place you’ve got here.” Cal said never removing his grip on his saber. 

“Thank you, it belongs to my wife to my wife and I.” Acela said proudly. “Though we hardly ever get to visit with how busy we are.” 

“Busy?” Merrin asked as she ignored several of the uniformed people eyeing her. 

“We’re servants to a vast monolithic empire my sweet.” Acela said leading them to a curtained off doorway at the back of the bar. “Even under the boot heel of the Empire there’s is still work to be done.” 

Acela pulled the curtain aside and ushered the trip in. They stepped through and into a small office filled with beat up furniture and dozens of holo screens connected by a maze of cables. Sitting behind a huge desk that looked like it had survived direct blaster fire was an ancient looking human woman. She had the same umber skin as the door man in the bar, but hers was pulled tight to her skull and her eyes were sunken. Thin bone white hair was woven into a bun atop her head and giving her features an almost skeletal look to them. 

To either side of the old woman stood two similar looking women, probably siblings by Trilla’s estimate. The older sister was well put together, immaculate hair and an expertly tailored dress that hugged her form in all the right ways. In contrast, the younger looking sister wore a set of worker’s clothing smudged and aged by chemicals, dirt, and time. Streams of smoke rolled off the younger sister’s pipe adding to a haze that hung in the air. 

“Cal Kestis and entourage, I presume.” The old woman’s voice was dripping with predatory amusement as she spoke. “What a pleasure it is to see that not all of the Jedi are gone. I’m sure the council rests in peace knowing that you’re out continuing their legacy.” 

“I’m continuing the legacy of the Jedi, not the council.” Cal said stepping forward. 

“Oh? Well it seems you might have more potential than I initially thought.” The old woman cackled. “Are you hungry? I’d be remiss if I called you all the way here and didn’t offer you something to fill your belly.” 

“I think we’re fine.” Cal said. “Let’s cut to the chase. Who are you, why are you tracking us, and why did you call us here?” 

“Oh girls, such a forceful young man our new friend is.” The old woman cooed as she leaned back in her chair. “I am Moira Blackfire, Arch Duchess of Karro, to my left is my eldest daughter Valla and to my right is my youngest daughter Verona. As to why we’re tracking you young Cal, it should be quite obvious. You’re an enemy to the Empire, one of, if not the, last remnant of the Jedi Order. Turning you over to Imperial forces would go a long way to solidifying our loyalty in the eyes of our new overlord on Coruscant, don’t you think?” 

“Then why not just turn us in?” Cal asked. “Why all the subterfuge?” 

“Subterfuge is far more enriching in the long term than licking Imperial boots in the short term my boy.” Moira said. “It’s my personal belief that we can help each other Cal. I have in my possession something you very much need, and you have a particular set of skills that can provide a service I want you to provide.” 

“What service could one who owns a planet possibly need from us?” Merrin asked. 

“A simple task that I suspect will require people of a certain skill set to see through.” Moira said. “What we want from you my young friends is to find my grandson, Kathis Eaton, and bring him back to Karro, alive of course. In exchange you will receive this.” 

A holographic display of an imperial freighter lit up above the desk. 

“Your very own Gozanti class freighter registered as a diplomatic vessel in all Imperial databases.” Moira said as the ship slowly rotated between them. “Though considering you’ve already got quite the luxury ship resting in my dock the ship alone won’t be enough to tempt you. Am I correct?” 

“Yes, a second ship would be about as helpful as the latest gossip from Coruscant.” Trilla said as she watched the ship rotate. “Though the diplomatic registration might be useful in getting us into a party or two.” 

“What she said?” Cal said gesturing to Trilla. 

“Ah, such pragmatic children you are.” Moira cooed as she pressed a button on the desk changing the holo display to show a cargo manifest. “The Blackfire family has a long history and several generations of Blackfires dedicated themselves to collecting antiques, relics, and tomes pertaining to all aspects of history. Throughout our long and storied history the family has collected quite a hoard of relics and tomes pertaining to the Jedi and others who sought to unravel the mysteries of what do you call it?” 

“The Force.” Cal said bluntly. 

“Ah yes, the Force, what a quaint little name.” Moira’s lips pulled back into a smile showing off her too white teeth. “Regardless of the terminology, what’s packed into almost every square inch of that ship is quite possibly the largest collection of Force user relics outside of Imperial control. Texts contemplating the nature of the Force, by Jedi and rogue force user alike, dating back centuries with some dating back millennia, relics of by gone ages when the Jedi were at the height of their power, and a selection of ancient knick knacks carved from kyber crystal. All of it is yours if you bring me my grandson.” 

Trilla blinked as she read the list over Cal’s shoulder. If the information wasn’t a lie then it indeed was the largest collection of Force relics in existence outside the Inquisition’s vaults. She licked her lips without thinking and once again she reached for her light saber that wasn’t there. An urge beaten into her by the inquisition tickled her brain with cold needles. A dark thought started to take shape in the back of her mind, how easy would it be to take that collection and turn it into the Empire? Surely her missteps could be forgiven if she…

No. She hissed into her mind. 

She stepped back and took a deep breath. Slowly, the urge lessened and eventually slipped back into the darkness at the back of her mind. Yet even in retreat the darkness was still there, waiting in the void where a mental scar laid open angry and raw. Still whispering it’s dark musings and waiting for her to once again step away from the light. 

“Why would you offer these treasures?” Merrin asked breaking Trilla’s trance. “Such artifacts would certainly fetch you good will from your “overlord”, would they not?” 

“They would, yes.” Moira said cackling. “But the Empire’s power is ultimately fleeting in the scale of history my girl. They seek to destroy history, wipe the Jedi and other Force users away as if they never existed. Though I was never fond of the Jedi, I cannot stand idly by while something so...potent is simply erased as if it never existed. Besides, I need a job done that only a Jedi can do, so why not protect history and bring my grandson home at the same time?” 

“Okay, say we decide we believe and you do have a collection of Jedi artifacts.” Cal said his voice still a bit distant. “Why can this job only be done by a Jedi?” 

"Oh my dear Cal, the answer to that is quite simple.” Moira cackled as she sneered at Cal. “My Grandson is hunting after a Jedi, so who better than to send a Jedi after him?”


	2. Window Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this one. Hope you all enjoy it and if you have any constructive criticism don't hesitate to comment!

“He’s hunting a Jedi?” Cal asked as his heart skipped a beat as his fingers turned white from gripping his light saber so hard.

“What do you mean by that?” Trilla asked, her tone measured and concise. “Has he fallen in with the inquisition?”

“Oh no, the day that boy wears an imperial uniform, or follows orders for that matter, will be the day entropy extinguishes the stars.” The younger of the two Blackfire daughters, Verona, said letting coiling streamers of smoke escape her lips with every word. “Unfortunately, he takes after me and I don’t play well with authority figures of any kind. Especially the Empire.”

“Are you his mother?” Merrin asked.

“No.” The older sister, Valla, barked with a cold fury practically bursting from her lips to cut her sister off. “Kathis is my son.”

“Kathis?” Cal said as his gaze shifted between the two women. “The same Kathis this station is named for?”

“I’m sure you of all people can appreciate the advantages of the galaxy thinking you’re dead Cal.” Moira said cackling. “For reasons far above your pay grade Kathis’ death was faked when he was young and fostered in hiding on Karro’s sister moon Northtier by his lovely aunt here.”

“Family drama and subterfuge aside.” Trilla said. “If he’s not working with the Empire than why is this Kathis of yours hunting a Jedi?”

“Ever since he was a toddler, Row…Kathis has been fascinated by the world around him.” Verona explained. “Be it technical, philosophic, or even meta physical Kathis is obsessed with unraveling the mysteries of the galaxy. By the age of ten he was tearing apart droids and slicing the school libraries on Northtier to get at the more advanced data tapes. It’s turned him into one of the finest young engineers I’ve ever known, but in the last few years something woke a thirst in Rowan. A thirst to know and to understand something that no school library could teach him about.”

“The Force.” Cal said, sure his guest was right.

“There’s the Jedi insight I’ve heard so much about.” Moira said as her lips pulled back into an amused smile. “Around his fifteenth birthday Kathis began a study of the Force, namely the myth and rumor surrounding the Jedi, but using our less official assets he began amassing quite a little collection of odds and ends from sources that the Jedi had no hand in. Sadly, that was the same year as the purge and for the family’s protection I had anything that could be connected to the Jedi and their ilk locked away in the family vaults.”

“I’m assuming that didn’t sit well with him.” Cal said watching the old woman as his mind processed the information.

“No, it didn’t.” Valla spoke for her mother. “Kathis, despite our best efforts, had been wasting away here in Hellara for years before the purge of the Jedi. Once he was denied an avenue of research it only became worse I’m afraid. He lingered here for four standard years after the purge, hopping from university to university in an attempt to satiate his mind. Then a year ago, on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, we discovered that he….”

“Stole my best ship and slipped off like he owned it!” Verona barked. “That scruffy little gearhead and his posse stole my Cinnamon Wind, an entirely custom ship that is irreplaceable I might add. By the time we knew what was going on he had already disappeared into the black of space.”

“Wait, it’s been a year since he left?” Cal asked. “Why are you just now sending someone after him?”

“Oh my Cal, why didn’t we think too send someone after him?” Moira asked as she crossed her eyes and tapped her head before reverting back to mild bemusement. “My grandson grew up in the scrap yards of Northtier, fighting gang wars with the other children for the fun of it. He knows how to hide, how to bide his time, and most of all how to press an advantage.”

“Sounds like he’d make a decent terrorist.” Trilla said bluntly and Cal noted how she almost seemed to relish Valla and Verona’s icy reactions to the assessment.

“Precisely why it’s imperative that you lovely young people find him and drag him back to Karro for safe keeping.” Moira said threading her fingers together. “Kathis isn’t the type to become a revolutionary, he’s entirely too cynical to serve a greater cause, but if say an Empire force is in possession of something he wants...”

“Then he’s going to try and get it.” Cal finished. “No matter the cost I’m assuming.”

“So quick on the uptake you are Cal.” Moira cooed, her green eyes gleaming in the light of a holo display. “Which is why you are perfect for this job my boy! I believe that you and your pretty crew mates behind you have what it takes to not only find Kathis, but to apprehend him as well.”

“You said he was hunting a Jedi.” Merrin asked, her eyes watching the old woman with a predator’s wariness. “How do you know that if a year has passed since you had contact with him?”

“Three weeks ago, we received this from a contact in the Corvex system who lost Kathis just after he made a purchase from a smuggler.” Moira said as the hologram changed to another inventory list. “Tell me children, what about that list stands out to you?”

The trio looked over the list for a moment. Merrin recognized that it listed five weapons, all melee weapons, while Cal and Trilla recognized that the list detailed both Imperial and separatist weapons. Then Trilla reached forward and scrolled through the list again as an idea crept into her mind. Just as it materialized she looked at Cal and he nodded.

“All of these, from the electrostaffs to the shock batons are light saber resistant.” Cal said.

“Sharp as a tack these children are.” Moira said her smile turning more satisfied than vicious. “All of those weapons are made with Phrik alloy, a metal that is almost indestructible when properly forged. One of the greatest secrets of the now dismantled Techno Union, most commonly used in melee weapons meant to do combat with a Jedi. Today, almost every source of Phrik metal is tightly controlled by the Empire save for what weapons can be salvaged or stolen. We have reason to believe that this transaction is just one of at least half a dozen similar purchases judging by our sightings of him.”

“He’s not just hunting a Jedi.” Cal said looking Moira in the eyes. “He’s preparing to fight one too.”

“Implies that he’s got a credible lead, does it not?” Moira asked as the hologram blinked out. “Tell me Cal, don’t you think that tracking down my grandson might also net you the chance to find a comrade in hiding? Seems like it would be the perfect bonus to the already considerable payment I’m offering you.”

“You’re not really giving me a choice.” Cal said as he started the old woman down.

“On the contrary.” Moira said pressing a button on the desk. “I just deleted the tracking data for the Mantis and called off our hunters. As of this moment, you and your crew are free to go about your merry way. It is said that all great partnerships are started with a show of trust, so I’m going to ask you take this job, as a favor to an old woman who simply want’s her grandchild to come home. You can refuse if you like, but if my terms are acceptable...”

Moira produced a data chit from her sleeve and held it out to Cal.

“Take this data chit, within is a dossier on Kathis, the Cinnamon Wind, and the location of possibly the last Techno union Astro Forge not under Imperial control.” Moira offered. “That is where Kathis must go if he wants to reforge the Phrik, and that is your best lead to finding him.”

Cal looked at the data chit and then back up to Moira’s dark green eyes. They were filled with certainty, as if the decision had already been made. She was probably lying, there was no way someone like her would simply throw away leverage like that. Though that didn’t matter if her offer was genuine, a ship filled to the brim with possibly the last free pieces of Force user history, his for the taking.

A chance to preserve some of the Jedi’s legacy was staring him in the face and he knew he couldn’t just refuse it. The spirit of the Jedi and the Force had to be preserved at all costs, because Moira had to be right. One day the Empire would wane and the galaxy would need a connection to the past that was lost during the purge. Because as long as these artifacts and texts existed the Empire would never truly win.

With a sigh he stepped forward and took the data chit from Moira.

“There’s a good lad.” Moira said as she sunk back into the chair. “Now, who wants some stew?”

Somewhere in the depths of Imperial space…

The broken man sat in his meditation chamber. His life was pain, both the agonizing physical pain of his suit and broken body as well as the deeper more potent internal pain that the physical distracted from. He relished that physical pain, told himself that it fueled his connection to the dark side, but deep down he knew that it was nothing compared to agony burned into his soul. No amount of physical pain could ever come close to guilt, grief, and self hate coiling like a rotting sun at his core.

Part of him knew that is where his true power lay. A dark fuel so potent that it could possibly amplify his powers to what they were...before. He could still hear hear the sorrow in her voice as his power clenched around her throat, still see his eyes gazing down from the high ground filled with grief, and he could still feel the weight of the saber as it cut down the future of the Jedi temple. All of it was as fresh as a wound, bleeding toxic blackness into every cell only tempered by the physical pain of his suit. Not for the first time, the broken man wondered what would happen if he upgraded his macabre armor?

Then his mind wandered not to the past, but to the present. To the image of the red headed Jedi, his fallen companion, and the inquisitor turned back to the light, at least for the moment. He pressed a button on his chair and the image of the Jedi appeared. The Jedi stared at him with a hopeful resolve in his eyes. It amused the Broken Man, well, as much as he could be amused in his state.

“Such hope.” The Broken Man said as he stared down at the Jedi. “Anakin Skywalker had hope once too.”

A low beeping came from his chair and the Broken Man activated his comms.

“Why am I being disturbed?” He asked.

“Forgive the intrusion my lord.” A nervous sounding crewman said over the intercom. “But we have received new intelligence from the Inquisition’s spies. Reports of someone commissioning light saber parts on a rim world.”

“Then the hunt begins again.” The Broken Man said. “Contact the Inquisitorius immediately. Tell them to send a scouting force to the planet. If an inquisitor can be spared then tell them to send one.”

“We will not be joining them there, my lord?”

“No, I have more important matters to attend to than chasing a single rumor on the outer rim.” The Broken Man said. “If they find anything of interest or catch the scent of a Jedi they will inform me. Send my orders immediately...and make sure these orders are only told directly to those they concern. No others no matter their clearance.”

“Yes, my lord.” The crewman said as the comm line went dead.

The Broken Man pressed another button and sat back as his helmet was lowered to seal around his head. A familiar taste of recycled air and bacta mist filled his mouth and he tensed as the suit sealed completely sending tremors of pain through his body. Metal screws rotated into their sockets and an electric anguish sizzled through every nerve as the suit sealed. When the process was done, he stood and slipped his light saber to his belt and turned to leave.

Vader had work to do.

“I was right.” Trilla said as she stared at the static image of Kathis, a quizzically confident looking young man dressed in street finery, on the holo table. “He’s a terrorist.” 

“I’d hardly call him a terrorist.” Cere said as she looked over the dossier on a data pad. “Kathis cut his teeth chewing on the small time syndicates threatening the factory he grew up in. Spent most of his teens leveraging assets and improvised weapons to push out or dismantle any other operation. Yet the boy doesn’t have a reputation for killing his enemies. Says something about him.” 

“No, he just wounds them.” Merrin said as she changed the display to the image of a bar filled with incapacitated people, almost all of them sporting shattered limbs and deep cuts. “Mother used to say that pain was a better teacher than death any day.” 

“He’s dangerous I’ll give him that.” Cal said as he looked at the holo display. “Northtier’s trains every child in basic close quarters combat, part of a compulsory military they keep up to fight off tribal raids, and it seems Kathis here made a name for himself as an enforcer. There are dozens of examples in his school records alone where Bullies, Teachers, and local officials tried to strong arm him only for their houses to burn down or their possessions to suddenly end up on the planet’s grey market.”

“So we’re dealing with an intelligent and skilled proto crime boss dead set on hunting down a Jedi for no other obvious reason than to sate his curiosity.” Trilla said with a dark chuckle. “We’re missing something it seems. I’ve hunted men like this image of Kathis of Kathis we’ve been given, usually rich third sons thinking they’re going an adventure of a life time hunting down a myth, but this one is different. Do we know anything of the Jedi he’s hunting?” 

“No, the dossier details some of the intelligence from the Blackfire’s trackers, but most of it’s conjecture.” Cere said. “It’s the same rumors that haunt every cantina and slum brothel in the core worlds. Whispers of Mace Windu or Yoda in hiding waiting for the day when the Jedi will rise again. Most if not all of it is nonsense.” 

“The way you speak, you think these Blackfires are lying about this Kathis?” Merrin asked, raising an eyebrow at Trilla. 

“Not lying perse.” Trilla said looking at the night sister. “I believe most of the information they’ve given us is true, but something, call it intuition call it the Force, tells me we don’t know the whole story. Who he’s hunting is just as important as why he’s hunting them in my opinion.” 

“I agree.” Merrin said nodding. “This Kathis, from what I have seen in these records, is not someone who moves without purpose. Even if he is curious about the Force, I do not believe he would be so stupid to risk drawing the Empire’s attention to himself without good reason to do so. Perhaps, we are part of a greater game than we know.” 

“You know, just once I’d like to start a mission with all the cards on the table.” Greez said rubbing his temples as he considered the holo image. 

“Beep!” BD-1 agreed from his perch on the holotable. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Cal asked before dialing in the coordinates of the Astro Forge into the holo table. “Listen, I know we’re going into this without all the information, but I think it’s worth the risk. Besides this planet we’re going to, Murtock, is a fringe planet that the Empire barely knows exist. Beyond the space port it’s a planet where slug throwers are still the most popular weapon.” 

“Slug thrower?” Merrin asked. 

“It’s a weapon that uses a small powder based explosion to propel a ball of shaped metal through the air.” Cere explained. “Pretty popular among worlds where blaster tech is too expensive to import.” 

“Hm.” Merrin said as she considered the idea.

“How long until we reach Murtock?” Trilla asked Greez. 

“It’s a bit of an out of the way planet, but I can get us there in three days if I use some of the smaller hyper lanes.” Greez said scratching his chin. “If we want to be really sneaky add another day onto that to switch between some of the lesser known lanes.” 

“Do it.” Cal said. “I don’t want any unnecessary risks even if it costs us time. That’ll give me more time to heal up and for us to come up with a plan.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Greez said before turning to Cere. “Cere, you think you can beam some communications in transit? I’ve got some favors to call in for some info, if this Kathis is really as good as we think then there’s a chance he’s crossed paths with some old “friends” of mine.” 

“Of course Greez.” Cere said. “I re tuned the comms dish I a few days ago. Tighter beam with a longer range.”

With that the crew dispersed each readying themselves for the mission ahead. 

Later that day…

Cal’s mind floated freely into the void that was meditation. Once, not too long ago, meditation was a stressful experience. Where his nightmares waited to bubble to life like a horrible black sludge drowning him. Now though, after all he’d been through and learned since taking up his new saber he carried his trauma not as a burden but a companion. He defined it not the other way around, and in the great sea that was the Force it was just another piece of cargo he carried through life. Just another part of himself that was not greater than the whole but a part of it. 

As his mind floated there he became aware of something else moving through the world around him. A thin green outline, a silhouette carved from flickering emeralds, that appeared kneeling in front of him. The silhouette’s face barely an inch from his face, Cal could feel a cautious curiosity as the silhouette considered him. With a cautious look behind it’s shoulder the silhouette reached up and brushed a stray bit of hair out of Cal’s face, and for a moment the silhouette was rendered in perfect clarity. It was Merrin he realized as her features faded away back to her silhouette in the Force. 

Though he could have easily slipped out of his meditative state, Cal forced himself not to react. In the distance he felt his heart beat quicken and a slight bit of heat rose from his chest to warm his cheeks as Merrin watched his expressionless face. She stood and went to sit on his bed, yet her eyes never left him. Cal really had no idea what she was doing, or why she had this effect on him even while meditating. He respected Merrin, after what she endured on Dathomir she deserved that much, but there was also something else about her that he couldn’t quite place. Every time he looked at her he felt something niggle at him. Some alien feeling caught somewhere between affection and utter panic.

The moment they’d shared on Bogano only muddled the waters more. She’d been healing his wounds and her power had...connected them somehow. It was exhilarating, being so close to another sapient being like that. For those eternal moments, Cal felt Merrin more than he could see her, and what he felt was intoxicating. Every breath she took, the goose bumps on her skin, and the way her eyes glowed had transfixed him as he was healed. She was a work of art, a power so alien and yet somehow familiar that Cal’s mind wasn’t equipped to deal with the emotions that connection incited. Not for the first time, he longed for the simple days when the Jedi’s rules made the world make sense and he didn’t have to worry about his feelings for an amazingly capable nightsister. 

A moment or two passed, and Cal slipped from the sea of the Force and back into his body. His eyes opened and sure enough Merrin was sitting on his bed considering him. The two looked at each other for a long moment. Cal was still partially in the trance of meditation and just allowed himself to dumbly stare at Merrin until she tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. 

“Is there something on my face?” Merrin asked.

“No.” Cal said, his cheeks burning as the last dregs of meditative calm evaporated. “I was just, uh, lost in thought.” 

“About what?” Merrin asked. 

“Jedi stuff.” Cal said dumbly. 

“Well, that’s...good.” Merrin said as a slight smile played across her lips. “May I ask you something Cal?” 

“Uh...sure.” Cal said. 

“What was it like...” Merrin trailed off as she stared off into a memory before continuing. “What was it like when you realized that the universe was bigger than your home?” 

“Um, that’s a bit of a broad question.” Cal said as he joined her on the bed. “What makes you ask?” 

“I lived all of my days on Dathomir.” Merrin explained. “I had heard tales of the tribes of sisters scattered across the planet and of course heard the rumors of far flung worlds filled with things no nightsister could ever hope to imagine. Yet, none of those tales or rumors ever felt real. To me, the stars held nothing but a place in night’s sky and Dathomir always felt like the only true place in existence. Now though, so far away from mother Dathomir, I find that the universe is full of true places and far more complicated than I could have dreamed. Part of me is...I don’t know how to say it any other way, but part of me is afraid.” 

“Afraid?” Cal asked scooting closer. 

“Yes, silly I know, but as I learn more of the galaxy, see more of it, I’m afraid that Dathomir will become small in my mind.” Merrin said. “The realization that my home is just another planet orbiting a star orbiting alongside trillions of others is humbling. In a scary way.” 

“I understand.” Cal said scooting until he was less than an inch from her. “You know, I’m embarrassed about it now, but when I first left atmosphere on a ship I could barely stand up I was so scared.” 

“Really?” Merrin asked. “You were scared of space?” 

“Terrified.” Cal admitted with a chuckle. “They tell you it’s nothing to be afraid of, that fear is the enemy of the Jedi especially fear of something that millions do every day, but for some reason that first trip scared me. I was so scared that I staid back when the other younglings were all gawking at the view as we made an orbit around the planet.” 

“Did you stay back?” Merrin said. 

“For a while I did.” Cal said looking at her. “But after a few minutes I caught sight of the planet below us and saw just how big it was. So big that I couldn’t even see the temple anymore. Suddenly this place I’d spent my whole life was reduced to a slightly bigger speck among a million other specks. It only made me more afraid to be honest, up there in space on a ship I was unfamiliar with and only the other younglings around as familiar faces I felt lost. Then I saw it, the sun shining on the curvature of the planet, and I realized that it was almost dawn in the temple.” 

“Even though I was thousands of miles away from the Temple I knew that Master Calthourus would be overseeing morning meditations.” Cal said his eyes staring off into a distant memory. “I knew that somewhere Master Buldo was probably tormenting padawans for not cleaning up their stations in the library. As we shot around that planet I realized that the temple was really just a small part of the world, of the whole galaxy, but I also realized that didn’t make it matter any less. Even now that the temple and all those Jedi are gone it doesn’t make them matter any less. I chose then and choose now to make the Temple and everyone who lived in it matter just like you do with Dathomir. We’re both carrying our old lives inside us, taking them with us, not leaving them behind.” 

Merrin looked at him for a long moment. Contemplation played across her face as the seconds ticked by before she reached out and awkwardly took his hand. The contact was electric as her fingers wrapped around his and she squeezed his hand. 

“Thank you Cal.” Merrin said, her eyes staring into his. “It...it is nice to know that I’m not alone in feeling this way.”

“Don’t mention it.” Cal said, his heart beat speeding up every second their fingers were entwined. “Merrin, I...I want you to know that what you did when you saved me, well, both times you saved me means a lot. The fact that you’re coming along on this mission means even more.” 

“It is always eventful with you Cal.” Merrin said as she brought her other hand to rest on top of his. “Without you, I would still be on Dathomir guarding over the bones of my sisters and stewing in the past. You...you offered me a better option. That means something as well, and if I were to not aid you in this mission who will save you when you need saving again?” 

“I think I could figure something out.” Cal chuckled.

“Oh I’m sure.” Merrin chuckled back. 

They looked at each other. Cal’s vision was still burned with the glowing after image of her image in the force, outlining Merrin in a dark emerald. She was beautiful. He could feel her energy, a strange mix of predatory intelligence and warm comfort that coiled in her like a viper. Goosebumps spread across his skin as his gaze flicked down to her lips before they came back to her eyes. Out of everything about her, Cal thought her eyes were the most beautiful. In them he could see her strength, see her almost hidden fragility, and in those eyes he saw the spark of a well timed wit burning bright. 

He reached up with his free hand and brushed a lock of hair out her face. His finger lightly traced across her cheek as he did and Merrin shivered softly at the touch. Nervous energy crackled across his muscles and Cal’s blood turned to ice as he looked at her. A maelstrom of emotion and urges blasted to life in his mind as he tried to think of what to do next. He wanted to kiss her, but a black nagging thought in the back of his mind locked his muscles denying him the will to lean forward. What if she didn’t want it? What would happen if he tried and she…

Then she leaned forward and kissed him. Pure lightning blasted through him as her lips met his and any fear boiled away. Her lips were soft and the kiss was certainly enthusiastic, if a bit inexperienced. Not that Cal really noticed considering his experience with kissing before this was with the air. Her free hand came up and gently grabbed Cal by the neck as her other hand squeezed his. They leaned into each other, letting the contact linger on and on until what seemed like an eternity passed and they pulled apart. They looked at each other and after a moment of haggard breathing they both broke into laughter. 

“That was...new.” Merrin said after she got control of herself. 

“Yeah.” was the only word Cal’s brain could summon from the ether. 

Greez sat in his chair reading over his screens as the Mantis cut through hyperspace. He loved this part of every trip, the time when everyone else was asleep and he had the bridge all to himself. The Mantis was so finely tuned that she barely needed a nudge to keep on course through the hyperspace lanes. So Greez just leaned back with a cup of Caf in hand and watched millions of miles of space scream past him. Almost lost in the peace of light speed travel Greez almost didn’t hear the chair of the Comm chair squeak. 

“Cere, you seen Cal?” Greez said, chuckling as he turned in his chair. “Pretty sure him and our resident witch are...”

The words died in his mouth as he realized he wasn’t talking to Cere but Trilla as she sat in her former master’s seat. She sat back and watched the cosmos streak past the ship, her eyes glowed with the light from outside the windows and as Greez looked at her she leveled her gaze on him. There was something strange in her eyes, an emotion caught between dark delight and contemplation. For a moment Greez thought she’d rush him with how her body was tensed and how her eyes tracked him from across the bridge. 

“Forgive the intrusion.” She said after Greez’s heart almost gave out. “I’ve always found the light of hyper space...calming.” 

“Ah, me too.” Greez said turning back to his panel. “Never really took the inquisitors for the type to appreciate that kind of thing.” 

“They didn’t.” Trilla said as she tightened a bandage on her arm.  
“How’s the, uh, arm?” Greez asked. 

“It hurts, not as bad as when it was cut off, but it hurts.” Trilla explained as she pointed her stump at Cere’s headset on the console and stared at it.

“That gets better.” Greez said watching as Trilla’s face tightened and the headset lifted off the console slightly before clacking back down. “My cousin lost one of his arms to a Melta vat back in the day. Hurt for awhile, but eventually it faded to background noise. You should see him now, only has three arms, but possibly the best cups player in the system.” 

“Hm, comforting.” Trilla said as she went back to staring out the window.

Greez looked at the young woman for a long moment before turning back to his console. He busied himself by double checking the diagnostic software, but no matter how deep he dived into the ship’s systems he was always aware of Trilla sitting a few feet away. Not that he particularly disliked the girl, if anyone could forgive a bit of merciless chasing it was Greez, but Trilla felt dangerous. He’d caught glimpses of what she could do from BD-1 and the Mantis’ exterior cameras. The fact that she was more or less on their side did little in the way of calming him down considering just what she was capable of. 

“Tell me.” Trilla said almost making him jump out of his seat. “What does Cere do around the Mantis?” 

“Well, she runs the comms, gives Cal pep talks and the odd bit of wisdom, and...” Greez said before a look from Trilla cut him off. 

“I meant what’s her routine when not doing that?” 

“Oh, well mostly she’s either out here when’s she working or in the kitchen at meal time.” Greez said. “Uh, spends the rest of her time in her quarters you know. She’s...got a lot on her mind most of the time.” 

“Don’t we all.” Trilla said idly twisting a lock of her hair around a finger. “Greez...thank you for keeping her safe. Cere was my master and even after all that happened between us she’s still here. Thanks to you and Cal. I don’t know if I thanked you before today, but your service to Cere probably saved her life just as it did mine.” 

“Uh...thanks.” Greez said, his gaze flicking from Trilla to the door and back. 

“You’re afraid of me.” Trilla said as his gaze locked with hers. “After what I did, after everything I did, you’d be a bit stupid not to be.” 

“Yeah...” Greez said as he looked at Trilla for a long moment before continuing. “Listen Trilla, ah, I’m not the best at this whole “support” thing, but if you, ah, need someone to talk to that’s not, uh, so entangled you can come to me.” 

“That’s...very kind of you.” Trilla said, raising an eyebrow. “Why?” 

“Well, the Mantis is my ship, and beyond flying her the only things I’m good at are talking and playing cards.” Greez said, scratching the back of his head. “And I’ll be honest I’m not that good with cards anyway. Listen, I know I’m way out of my depth with this force stuff, but I know someone who needs someone to talk to when I see one. So, if you ever need to talk about anything and you can’t go to Cere or Cal just grab a seat and start talking.”

Trilla’s eyes narrowed as she considered him. Greez saw a familiar look of suspicion cross her face, and suspected she’d rebuff the offer. Honestly, he didn’t know why he even offered, but something about her thank you had given him a hunch. As he considered that, Trilla’s face shifted into a sad smile and she nodded to Greez. 

“I believe that would be helpful Greez.” Trilla said. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Greez said looking through the door. “Listen, I’m going to put another pot of Caf on, but if you want you could check out the view from my seat. Gives a great angle as the cosmos is shooting by, never fails to keep me, uh, calm.” 

“Thank you.” Trilla said turning back to the window as Greez stepped out of the control room. 

Three days later…

A shudder passed through the Mantis as it landed on Murtock and as the hatch opened Cal was hit wit ha burst of mist as he got his first look at the planet. They had landed on top of a rusted landing pad overlooking the only advanced settlement on the planet. Cal looked down at the tight cluster of prefab buildings and small industrial buildings before looking out to the plain beyond. Dark purple grass stretched on for miles, all the way to a line of tall dark green trees through which Cal saw the hint of a river. His gaze shifted from the distance to the other ships occupying around half of the dozen or so other landing pads, every one of them as old and rusted as the town they perched above. 

“Looks like we may have beaten our friend here.” Trilla said stepping up to his side. “None of these look like they can get more than a hundred feet off the ground let alone breach atmosphere.” 

“Yeah, I used to salvage these back on Bracca.” Cal explained. “These are all Republic civilian scout craft, cheap to produce and replace, went out of circulation just before the Clone Wars though.” 

“If this Kathis has not arrived then we have an opportunity, yes?” Merrin asked appearing at Cal’s other side in a burst of green light. 

“Yeah, we find this Astro Forge first, secure it, and use it as a trap for Kathis.” Cal said as he looked at Merrin. 

Her normally stoic expression was betrayed by the hint of a smile as their eyes met. Merrin looked away but gently squeezed his hand as she pretended to look over the town. Just like the first time Cal felt a jolt of electric energy shoot up his arm at her touch, and almost pulled her close before the rational part of his brain reminded him that Trilla was right there. And that Merrin would probably stab him for pulling something like that. 

“Supposedly, this Astro Forge emits a certain type of exhaust.” Trilla said checking her blaster pistol before slipping it into its holster. “Grey smoke with purple embers. If we can find that we’ll have our kill box.” 

“Kill box?” Cal asked. “You do know we’re here to capture him alive, right?” 

“Sorry.” Trilla said offering Cal a shrug. “Old habits die hard.” 

“Right.” Cal said before turning to Merrin. “Merrin, Trilla and I can head down into to town and start asking around. Would you be okay taking BD-1 and scouting ahead of us?” 

“Of course.” Merrin said offering an arm for BD-1 to transfer between them. 

Then she looked over his shoulder for a moment before planting a kiss on his cheek. Cal’s brain went blank for a second and vaguely heard BD-1 beep out a long low tone. Merrin smiled at him and stepped back, disappearing in a burst of green energy. 

“Well, it seems I owe Greez five credits.” Trill said as Cal turned back to her blushing. 

“Why is that exactly?” Cal said trying to brush the blush off his cheeks. 

“I bet that a girl like her would have moved onto kissing you on the lips in front of us by now.” Trilla said as she started down the gang way. “Seems she’s less bold that I thought.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cal asked following her more to shake of the heat in his cheeks than anything else. 

“Look Cal, I know what’s going on.” Trilla said as they walked down a cork screw walk way. “I caught you two on Bogano remember? Hands all over each other, staring longingly into each other’s eyes, and lips so close together I swear you were sharing a breath. Save me the cliché of denying it and move on to the point where you acknowledge that you and the night sister are involved with one another.” 

“Nice to know the whole ship’s gossiping around us.” Cal said as they stepped onto a pack earth street and stepped into the cover of an awning.

“Mostly just Greez and I since Cere’s never been much of a gossip.” Trilla said pressing herself against a support pillar and scanning the street. “Listen, I rightfully don’t care if you and the witch are involved, meditation can’t take up all those lonely hours on the ship after all. This isn’t the order Cal, there’s no one left to care if you get attached.” 

“You ever think that was part of the Order’s problem?” Cal said as he scanned the street in the opposite direction. “How could we have protected the galaxy without being attached to it?” 

“Never took you for a philosopher Cal.” Trilla said as she tapped his arm and nodded to an imperial officer walking towards the ship. “We’ve got an inspector coming from the south.” 

Cal watched the officer, an older man with a skinny build, a mechanics jumpsuit stained by bleach and sun, and nose that looked like it could cut dura steel as he approached the landing pad. 

“You think he’s a threat?” Cal asked. 

“He’s civilian by the looks of him” Trilla said, gripping her pistol’s handle despite her words. “I doubt we’d have much trouble if he was Imperial anyway, planet like this is probably punishment detail. No industry beyond what they eek by on here and the fact the system’s out of the way of the major hyper space lanes. Perfect place to dump commanders and troops incompetent or obstinate enough to discipline, but not worth it to kill. Put your hood up and let me do the talking.” 

“Lead the way.” Cal said flicking his hood up as Trilla stepped out of the cover of the awning. 

“Ah, are you two the owners of this fine vessel?” The inspector said as he looked over his Caf stained clip board. 

“Indeed, my brother and I are on a tour of the outer worlds on the Mantis here.” Trilla said offering the inspector an icy smile. 

“He’s your brother?” The Inspector asked as he looked Cal over. 

“Our father developed a taste for red heads in his mid life crisis.” Trilla replied. “In fact, we’re here to visit and old friend of his, apparently the old boy has some knick knacks dear to our father’s heart and dad wants us to fetch them.” 

“Uh huh.” The inspector asked, his bored gaze flicking to the Mantis above them before resting back on them. “Alright, you probably know the drill, but because I’m paid by the hour I’ll explain it to you anyway. Make sure you don’t cause any trouble and to pay your docking fees with the finance droid before leaving. If you’re smugglers pay Sub Commander O’lof in the government building or the town platoon will be very irate. Any questions?” 

“Yes, actually.” Cal said ignoring the smuggler comment. “Our father’s friend was an ex member of the Techno Union, supposed to be some kind of technical junkie. Would you happen to be able to point us in the direction of his shop?” 

“Hm, seems my memory is spotty today.” The Inspector said holding out his hand. 

“Sorry to hear that.” Cal said slipping him a credit chit. 

“Wait...” the Inspector said as he checked the amount. “I think something’s coming to me. You’re looking for Koyi. He’s got a repair shop in the town square, services everything from droids and blasters to ships and what not. You go down that alley and follow it all the way you’ll pop out on the edge of the square. His shop is the one with the big yellow sign.” 

“Glad to see your memory is coming back to you.” Cal said. 

“Glad to be of service sir.” The Inspector said giving Cal a sloppy salute before walking away.

“Where did you get those credits?” Trilla asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“Stole them off a Storm Trooper on Kashyyk.” Cal replied as he turned to walk down the alleyway the Inspector pointed to. 

“Hm, never took you as one to salvage the fallen for credits.” Trilla said as she followed him. 

“He wasn’t dead, I force pushed him into a tree and his blaster was shattered.” Cal explained as they slipped through the alleyway and stepped onto a dusty town square. “He panicked and threw a credit chit at me before running off into the forest.” 

“Thank the Force for cowards then.” Trilla said as they surveyed the square. 

The square was compact and rimmed with dirty shops, many boarded up or abandoned, with ramshackle stands littering most of the space. Three storm troopers in poorly maintained armor sat at the far end of the square watching the spattering of shoppers mill from stand to stand. Cal saw the big yellow sign a dozen yards away and looked over the displays out front showing off dusty scrap droids and tools.

“I suppose that’s Koyi’s shop then.” Trilla said as they watched the front of the shop. “I don’t suppose it would be so easy as to walk in find a compliment mechanic willing to help us with some light kidnapping.” 

“Where’s the fun in easy?” Cal asked, looking around. “You see Merrin anywhere?” 

“She’s to your left.” Trilla said nodding to Merrin as the night sister materialized from the shadow of a stand.

“You know, I should probably be more surprised that you can do that.” Cal said as BD-1 hopped from her shoulder to his. 

“Probably.” Merrin said with a hint of a smile on her lips. “Is that where the Forge is?” 

“We think so.” Trilla said. “Happen to see any plumes of grey smoke with purple embers?” 

“No, I was on the roof and the only smoke was black and coming from a few exhaust pipes.” Merrin said. “Also there was a man smoking from a light bulb.” 

“Hm.” Cal said as his eye was caught by a skinny human girl hurry out of the shop, arms loaded with expensive looking tools as she hustled down the street. “Where do you think she’s going?” 

“If I had to guess the pawn shop.” Trilla said. 

“Merrin.” Cal said a feeling itching at his brain. “Was there a back alley behind the shop?” 

“Yes.” Merrin said raising an eyebrow. “A small one, only large enough for a vehicle loaded with a large container strapped on top of it to idle.” 

“Look like it was about to leave?” Cal asked. 

“The container was open and half packed by the looks of it.” Merrin explained as they watched the front door. “Equipment and parts of a large machine from what I could see. Do we know what this “astro” forge looks like?” 

“I’ve seen one or two, basically huge octagonal pillars that open up and work the metal on a molecular level.” Trilla said. “See anything like that?”  
“Octagonal means eight sides, yes?” Merrin asked. “Then yes, I saw several pieces that had eight sides.” 

“It seems Koyi is planning to relocate.” Trilla said, a vicious smile on her lips. “Maybe he’s having a going out of business sale?” 

“Maybe.” Cal said, a tickle at the back of his mind telling him that probably wasn’t the case. “BD-1, go with Trilla and Merrin. You three head to the back, watch for any trouble. If anyone makes a move for the transport I can trust you two to keep it here?” 

“Of course.” Merrin said green static dancing off her fingers. 

“I’ve been meaning to get some target practice in.” Trilla said patting the blaster in its holster. “What will you be doing?” 

“I’m injured, wince every time I step on so much as a pebble, and look like I lost my personal droid in a scrap yard brawl.” Cal said raising an eyebrow at her. “What self respecting scrapper wouldn’t try to pull one last scam before skipping town if someone looking like me walked in?” 

“Clever boy.” Trilla said as the trio broke up.

.//////////

The inside of the shop wasn’t much better than the exterior. More ramshackle droids took up haphazardly thrown together displays and every shelf was stuffed to the brim with spare parts and the like. As Cal stepped into the dimly lit shop the smells of oil and ozone assaulted his nose and he noticed that a thin cloud of smoke hung in the air between the displays. Partially obscured by the smoke were three other people milling about the inside of the shop. Two were other patrons looking over the displays and the third was a tall shop keep idly wiping down counter top. 

One of the shoppers, a thin faced human with tight features looked him over with a disinterested glance before looking back to a rack of scrap toys. The other patron was a hunched figure shambling between rust coated astromech droids as they tapped the rust buckets with a rough wood cane. Cal looked between the two as the tickle at the back of his head turned into a full on itch. His wounds pulsed as a trickle of adrenaline mixed into his blood stream. 

I have a bad feeling about this. He thought as he stepped towards the counter resisting the urge to rest his hand on his light saber. 

“Well what do we have here but a wee customer.” The shopkeep said. 

As Cal stepped closer he noted that the person behind the counter was a young woman with long red hair, pale freckled skin, and oddly enough two large spiral horns on either side of her head. All of that hardly registered as Cal realized that the young woman towered over the counter, standing at least seven feet tall. She wore a mismatch of a mechanic’s jacket, a stained grey shirt, and a long patterned skirt with dozens of pockets. He noted that the pockets were full, but not with nuts or screws, but small bottles of what looked like polish and delicate looking tools. Hardly the load out of a droid mechanic. 

“What can I do for ye today?” The shopkeep asked in a singer’s voice. 

“Hello, I’m looking for an old friend of my father’s.” Cal said, his gaze flicking from the young woman to the small mirror on the wall behind her.

In the reflection he could follow the two other patrons. He noted that the hunched figure was watching him now, a face partially covered by his hood, partially covered by an eye patch watched him. The thin faced human had moved to a display right next to the door and seemed to be transfixed by a newer model astromech droid polished to a reflective sheen. Cal wondered if they were Koyi’s security, but the itch in the back of his head told him they probably weren’t. 

“Koyi was his name.” Cal said after leveling his gaze back on the young woman. “Supposed to have some knick knacks that my father wants back. He in?” 

“I’m afraid not.” The woman said, her blues eyes twinkling with genuine warmth as she smiled at him. “Koyi’s actually off world right now, he’s retiring and is paying me to sell of the last of his stock and close the old place down. Me da and him were friends of old too, told lots of stories of the hell they’d raise back in the day. What did you say you’re father’s name was?” 

“I didn’t.” Cal said, his gaze flicking to the mirror to see the hunched figure a step closer before it fell to the counter where gash in the faux wood stood out on the dirty surface. He noted a faint purple shimmer in the air around it. “You wouldn’t happen to have an address written down somewhere, so we can get in touch with him? Better yet, he wouldn’t have left anything behind? My father’s knick knacks were tools they salvaged off a pirate wreck, probably still has them near his old Astro Forge if he didn’t take it with him.” 

“Old Koyi sold the forge and all his tools I’m afraid.” The woman said, a regretful pout playing across her soft features. “What did they look like? I might be able to track them down for ye, if you’re insistent that is.” 

“That would be fantastic, they were made of...” Cal said, his hand slipping forward across the counter top till his fingers grazed the gash in the faux wood.

As soon as his fingers touched the shimmering purple a memory played out before him. He saw a male Twi'lek, probably Koyi, standing behind the counter talking to someone. A human man, a young human man with dark skin splotched with paler skin. Kathis Blackfire. The Kathis in vision placed his hands on the counter and looked over his shoulder, revealing one eye was covered by an eye patch. Two figures stepped into view from the back of the shop. One a thin faced young man and the other the tall young horned woman. Koyi yelled out as the pair grabbed him and the woman bashed his hand and the small vibro knife he was holding into the counter top. Then the memory faded away and Cal was standing in the shop again. 

“Psychometry right?” A voice said from behind him. 

“Kathis Blackfire I presume.” Cal said, not moving as he felt a narrow blaster muzzle on the back of his head. 

“I go by Rowan.” The voice said as a hand reached around and took Cal’s light saber from beneath his poncho. “You know, stashing your light saber in the exact place every other Jedi for the last century has might not be the best idea. Turn around.” 

Cal turned and came face to face with the source of the voice. He was a young man about the same height as Cal, but with a leaner build and a mockingly severe demeanor. Like in the memory his skin was a dark brown and splotched with pale white splotches randomly swathed across his skin. His one visible eye was the same dark green of his family back on Karro and it was trained on him with a curious gleam that was equal parts suspicious and mystified.

“Is Koyi dead?” Cal asked as Rowan leveled what looked like a tonfa blaster at his neck. 

“Dead men tell not tells.” Rowan said handing the light saber to the thin face man who put slid it under a rusted over astromech. “But they very rarely learn lessons, he was a slaver and had been keeping that young girl as his slave for the last three years. We freed her and broke his knees, let’s hope he takes that lesson to heart while he’s floating in the sewers for the next few hours. Answer my question, was that Psychometry?” 

“Yes, read about it in your studies, Kathis?” Cal asked. 

“My name is Rowan.” Rowan snarled before saying in a softer tone “Reyna, are Teek and Max done moving the forge?” 

“Should be all done love.” Reyna said from behind Cal. 

“Iro, squirt a message to Lobe and have him get the Cinnamon Wind’s engines fired up.” Rowan said, his eyes never leaving Cal’s as the other man pulled out a communicator and started whispering into it. “As much as I’d love to indulge my academic curiosity Jedi, I really have to be going.” 

He withdrew something from a pocket and Cal knew that it was a thermal detonator before it started beeping. 

“Now, you aren’t the Jedi I’m after, so that means you and I are going to part ways like acquaintances at a cantina.” Rowan said as he pressed a thumb to the dead man’s switch on the detonator. “I’ll disarm this when I step out the back door. Then you’ll get your light saber under that overpriced astromech and go back to my mothers. Tell them you missed me like all the others did. After that you can go back into hiding or go down in a blaze of glory against an inquisitor for all I care. Understand?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that Rowan.” Cal said raising his hands in a disarming gesture. His wounds ached and Cal knew that at such close quarters it’d be a very close fight if this popped off. “What’s at stake here is too important. What your grandmother is willing to pay me is something we need desperately, and besides, I can’t let you just hunt down a Jedi. I won’t be leaving here without you Rowan, without what you know especially.” 

“What’s your name Jedi?” Rowan asked, neither the thumb on the detonator nor the tonfa blaster wavering.

“Cal Kestis.” Cal said. 

They looked at each other for a long moment. It took Cal a long moment to mentally come to terms with what he was sensing. Rowan was indeed Force sensitive, of course he was untrained and unrefined, but the Force was strong in Rowan. Strong enough in the Force that if things were different they could have been training partners in the order. He wondered just how a Force sensitive like Rowan had escaped the Jedi, let alone the Empire. Rowan must have sensed something in Cal because his lips curled back into a smile and he chuckled. 

“Let me guess, you sense something in me?” He said as Iro’s eyes widened in response to whatever message was coming through his communicator. 

“Yes, Rowan I think you and have more in common than your Granny cared to admit.” Cal said. 

Rowan almost replied but was interrupted by Iro clearing his throat. 

“Rowan, we’ve got bad news.” Iro said, his eyes wide and his skin clammy with sweat. “Our friend in the government building just sent Lobe word that six ships bearing Inquisition IFF codes are five minutes from touch down here at port.” 

Cal’s blood ran cold as his own communicator buzzed. 

“Go ahead.” Rowan said, a slight touch of angry panic lit his eyes as he gestured to Cal’s communicator. 

“This is Cal.” Cal said into his communicator. 

“Cal!” Cere’s voice crackled over the communicator. “I’ve got Imperial chatter going crazy here, an Inquisitor’s on their way here. We’ve got maybe five minutes before they arrive.” 

“Tell her there’s an out cropping near the river to the north of here.” Rowan said, disarming the detonator. “If you’re pilots worth a damn they’ll be able to make a landing and hide in the overgrowth.” 

“Cere, there’s an outcropping...” Cal began before Greez interrupted. 

“I heard kid, saw it during the descent into town.” Greez said, in the distance Cal heard the sound of the Mantis’ engines firing up. “We’ll get over that way and lay low till you reach us.” 

“Get to us safe.” Cere’s said. “All of you.” 

With that the line went dead and Cal looked to Rowan who had stashed the detonator in a pouch on his belt. 

“Well my plan is screwed.” Rowan said, he smiled a nervous grin and Cal noted that he was missing one of his front teeth. “You ever go against the Inquisition?” 

“A time or two.” Cal said, reaching out with the Force and plucking his light saber out from under the droid. “Trust me when I say you do not want to be caught by them.” 

“So I’ve heard.” Rowan said, his gaze shifted from Cal to presumably Reyna behind him and then back to Cal. “Listen, I need to get my people back to my ship and off this arm pit of a planet. If you help us do that, I promise you that I’ll make it worth your while.” 

“I’m in no condition to fight, but I’ll help get you and yours out of here.” Cal said reaching out a hand. “As long as you agree to come back to Karro with me.” 

“The prospect of torture under and inquisitor’s knife is almost appealing compared to that idea.” Rowan said before he shook his head and clasped arms with Cal. “Almost won’t cut it today though. Deal.” 

“Good, your friend wouldn’t happen to know what Inquisitor was in command, would they?” Cal asked as Rowan released his arm and looked to Iro. 

“Yeah.” Iro said playing back the communication in his ear piece. “Says their IFF code designates them the Ninth something or other.” 

“The Ninth?” Cal’s heart nearly stopped as the word struck his brain. “The Ninth Sister?” 

“That’s it.” Iro said. 

Ice struck Cal’s veins as Iro’s affirmation registered. Every cell in his body thrummed with energy as the sounds of heavy engines burning far above them buffeted the shop. Primal fear caused him to grip his light saber so tight that it turned his knuckles white. It took all of his will power to say: 

“We have to run.”


	3. A kidney and a compass

Hello all! Sorry Sorry Sorry for the very late chapter update, real life and my full OC projects got in the way. Anyway, here’s the next chapter for your reading pleasure.

The ship landed with a heavy thud and with a final shudder her engines went quiet. In the darkness of the main hold, the Ninth sister relished the cold darkness of her makeshift quarters. Her right arm ached as the new augmentation sent slivers of ice into her flesh. Within the baskar cylinder was… something the Emperor had found within the deep core. An amorphous black orb, a mix of tainted Kyberite and something utterly alien , that pressed against her stump reaching into her flesh and flaying the nerves with tendrils of liquid hate, feeding her connection to the dark side. Darkness within and darkness without resonated as her hate fed off the pain, reminding every cell of why she still lived. 

“Cal Kestis.” She growled, the metal around her creaking with every syllable. 

Then the hatch released and her quarters were flooded with light. When her eyes adjusted, the ninth sister looked out at a shabby excuse for a town and bit into her lip. She knew she had to atone for her defeat, but being sent after some probably half starved mutt on a mud ball still angered her. By all rights she should be hunting Kestis, not some scavenger hoarding Phrik metal. 

“Inquisitor.” A purge commander said over her comms. “The other ships have landed and we’ve begun our sweep of the town.” 

“Good, no restrictions on terms of engagement.” The Ninth sister said. “Purge this entire outpost and retrieve the forge no matter who you have to gun down.” 

“Understood.” The purge trooper’s connection went dead and in its place she heard the sound of blaster fire. 

She stepped out onto the landing pad, watching as the ground was lit with the red light of blaster fire. Her lips curled back into a smile as plumes of smoke began to rise out of the buildings and the screams of the townsfolk filled her ears. Agony shot through her right arm and with a grunt she pressed her hand to the dark silver cylinder. With a guttural scream the internal machinery activated the kyber crystal within and the metal warped inward before stabbing out into a barbed blade, melding metal and kyberite together in agonizing ecstasy. A dark red light began to seep into the seams where metal and crystal twisted and the Ninth Sister felt the heat of it on her face like the hateful kiss of a poison sun. 

“Let’s hope this mutt can put up a decent fight.” She growled lowering her weapon before dropping down into the chaos below. 

//////////////////////////////////////////

“Get in the fucking transport Jedi!” Iro yelled as he threw the last of the forge components into the back of the transport. 

“No, I’m not getting in that thing.” Cal said, watching with horror as Rowan’s posse strapped down the forge. “That’s a vermilion X-31, the battery packs on those things are more likely to explode than hold a charge!” 

“Hey now, I learned to drive land vehicles on this old girl, show her some respect.” Iro said, turning to watch the other end of the alley. “But if you insist, Rowan’s got another transport stashed a few blocks away. He was planning on taking it to draw draw off some of the Imps, so you can tag along with him, happy?”

“Not at all.” Cal said, rubbing the throbbing pain in his side as BD-1 dropped from a roof to drop onto his shoulder. “But it will have to do.” 

“Troopers are moving this way from the landing pads.” Merrin said, appearing atop the transport and startling Iro. “Something is with them, a darkness like a walking wound.” 

“That would be Masana.” Trilla said as she slipped through a side gate to join them. “She’s alive and I do believe we should be on our way before she finds us.” 

“This one has some sense.” One of Rowan’s crew, a short young woman with ridiculously long ears and green skin said. “Listen, we need to be going quick or our asses will be warming a prison capsule before long.” 

“Something tells me they won’t be breaking out the containment capsules this time, Teek.” Rowan said, stepping out of the shop’s back entrance sporting a bright red lipstick stain on his forhead. “If we’re dealing with inquisitors they’re either after the ginger or us, and something tells me they aren’t going to be picky about just who they pick up.” 

“Oi Rowan.” Teek said, tapping her forehead. “You got a mark there.” 

“What?” Rowan asked as he checked one of his tonfas. 

“I left a wee smudge on your forehead love.” The giant red head said, stepping out of the shop and wiping the mark off his forehead with a handkerchief. “Good thing I got all the others, eh?” 

“Um...uh...” Rowan stuttered for a moment before he regained some of his composure. “Now then, Jedi you’re with me, we’ll be taking the stashed speeder a few blocks away. Draw the inquisition off while my crew gets the forge back to the Cinnamon Wind. If you have anyone you want to get out of town it’d be best to get them out with them.” 

“We will be going with Cal.” Merrin said as she appeared next to Cal. 

“Yes, I do think we will be.” Trilla said as she stepped through a side alley to stand on Cal’s other side. 

“You know how to use that blaster?” Rowan asked Trilla. 

“Point the shooty end at the thing that I want dead and pull the trigger, correct?” Trilla asked. 

“That’s about it, yeah.” Rowan said, smiling a gap toothed grin. 

“Then I know how to use it.” 

“You remind me of my mother.” Rowan said before turning to his crew. “Alright folks, I’ll escort our new friends out of town while you lot get that forge back to the ship. Once you’ve got that sweety loaded break out the Iso 5 capsule and get it prepped for jump. Any questions, comments, or concerns?” 

“That capsule is worth more than the whole bleeding ship!” Teek protested. 

“And we’ve got an entire Inquisitorial regiment on our assess.” Rowan’s tall girlfriend said. “I think we can be a wee bit wasteful.”

“Aren’t you forgetting Max’s job?” Jin asked. 

“Oh yeah.” Rowan said withdrawing a small transmitter from his pocket as he turned to Cal. “You might want to cover your ears.” 

Before Cal could comply, Rowan pressed the red button on top of the transmitter and it emitted a deep thrumming sound. The sound of crunching metal and glass filled the air as the near derelicts taking up space on the landing pads imploded before bursting into pure light and fire. Shock waves washed over the town and would have knocked Cal off his feet if Merrin hadn’t grabbed hold of him. 

“I do so love those old republic scout craft.” Rowan said, taking what looked to be an ear plug from his ear. “The insulation they used has an...exciting reaction to pure vervinium fuel vapors energized with derritic radiation.” 

“See, he is a terrorist.” Trilla said. 

Trilla, Rowan, and Merrin ran through the back alleys with Cal riding in Rowan’s back as the lean man darted through the oddly calm alleyways. Cal had made it a solid block before his side had started to hurt bad enough to notice and a block after that he could barely stand. Just before he was about to collapse to the ground, Rowan grabbed Cal roughly and threw him over his shoulder and continued running. 

“Do you...” Cal huffed. “Do you do this often?” 

“Often enough.” Rowan said, chuckling as he rounded a corner. “I’ve seen my fair share of accidents at the factory I grew up in, and sometimes you just have to carry someone out of the danger zone. I’ll add just add this to your bill.” 

“I...have a bill?” Cal said.

“A long one if the day keeps going like this.” Rowan huffed as they turned into a alley way where a covered craft waited. 

Rowan hefted Cal into Trilla’s arms and hurriedly pulled the cover off a speeder that looked older than the Republic let alone the Empire. 

“That is our escape craft?” Trilla asked. 

“Yes, there’s really not a lot options on a planet where the biggest industry is sulfur.” Rowan said hopping into the speeder and firing up its engine with a wet sounding rumble. “Don’t worry about this old girl, bought her off a farmer who only drove it into market once a week.” 

“Really?” Cal asked as Trilla helped him into the back of the speeder with Merrin. 

“Does it really matter?” Rowan said.

As Trilla loaded into the passenger sear Cal sunk into the back seat. His side pulsed with pain and little flecks of white were floating around in his field of view. A headache was threatening to blow out the back of his head and as he massaged his temples he felt Merrin’s hands on his neck. Cal looked up and sighed as he watched green flecks of light dance across his vision. He felt the speeder shudder and prepared for the inevitable lurch as they stared moving when he a chill ran down his spine. Cold stabbed into his chest like as he looked down to the end of the alleyway where a hulking silhouette stood. 

“Cal Kestis!” The Ninth sister yelled from the end of the alleyway as a line of storm troopers formed behind her. 

“Friend of yours?” Rowan asked, slowly reaching down to hook one of his tonfas onto his arm. 

“The line between enemy and friend is thin these days, who can remember?” Trilla said, staring at the barbed blade seemingly growing from her former comrade’s arm. “What is that on her arm?” 

“I don’t know.” Cal said, forcing himself to sit up. “But it feels off, like it’s made of ice and headaches.” 

“Alright, we’re cornered by an inquisitor with a sword growing from her arm and a firing squad covering her considerable ass.” Rowan said, adjusting a side mirror to show Cal a line of storm troopers at the other end of the alley way. “I’m thinking of fleeing in the opposite direction from her. Any objections?” 

“No.” Trilla said just as Rowan slammed down the accelerator sending them flying at the inquisitor. 

Rowan and Trilla began firing their blasters at the sister, filling the alley with smoke and crimson light as Rowan twisted the steering wheel. A sickening pop came from somewhere within the speeder and it went into a spin bringing the rear engines in line with the sister and the storm troopers. With a curse on his lips, Rowan slammed his fist onto a red button built into the speeder’s console and they rocketed forward, bellowing out smoke and flame from the rear engines as they went. 

“I am so glad I ripped the exhaust muffler off this piece of junk!” Rowan yelled as they shot away. 

They rocketed down the alley way, engine screaming as Storm troopers unloaded a volley of bolts that dinged off the edges of the speeder. A moment and a meaty thwack later, the speeder crashed through the firing line and out onto the street. Cal tried to celebrate but felt a cold sliver of ice stab into his stomach. He looked down and realized that a length of twisted black metal was stuck through the back of the speeder and stabbed into his side. 

He looked back as cold spread up his side and caught sight of the Ninth sister stepping through the smoke, what was left of her black blade dripping with black ichor. Time seemed to slow as they considered each other, a hunter and her pray sizing each other up in the fleeting moment before they could turn the corner. She mouthed something and though he couldn’t hear her words Cal knew what she said.

I am coming for you, Kestis. 

????????

Greez paced back and forth in the Mantis’ sitting room. He would have chewed his fingernails if he hadn’t already chewed three of his finger tail till they bled. The latero was used to stressful waits in the Mantis at this point, but usually the kid was in decent shape and Greez didn’t have to share a landing space with a weird looking ship. 

The Cinnamon Wind sat a few hundred yards away from the Mantis, a ship that looked to be constructed from the corpses of a fighter, a freighter, and a high priced yacht. Greez even spotted some parts probably ripped off a clone war era gunship and a few parts that even he didn’t recognize. Regardless of its makeup, Greez didn’t trust the ship at all. It looked like a smuggler’s ship that had been prettied up enough to pass through Imperial scrutiny. 

The fact that it also had it’s main cannon aimed at the Mantis wasn’t exactly soothing his worries either. A speeder loaded with the astroforge and what looked like a crew caught between the pirate and worker’s aesthetic had pulled in around thirty minutes before and started loading their prize with the help of a custom droid that looked to be made out of construction equipment welded to an oven. Once they noticed the Mantis, a green pip squeak had ordered the cannon pointed at them. 

“Calm down Greez.” Cere said, patting her friend on the shoulder. “Cal and the others are one their way, and I’ve got a feeling that cannon isn’t going to fire.” 

“Really?” Greez asked. “I guess my instincts are off then.” 

“That’s a Praetorian 7 model cannon.” Cere said. “Rated for void combat only since they had a nasty habit of lighting a rough mile of atmosphere on fire. Saw it a few times during the clone wars, I don’t think they’re stupid enough to fire it, but they aren’t above using it to intimidate.” 

“Good to know it’ll kill them too I guess.” Greez said, grimacing. 

Then a proximity alarmed went off and Greez’s head swiveled to see a beat speeder, it’s engines smoking and red hot, come screaming into the clearing. Greez couldn’t feel the force, couldn’t pull the fancy sensory feats Cal or even Cere were capable of, but he did have eyes. What they saw was Cal, paler than bone with dark blood sticking his poncho to his side. His blood ran cold and as he bounded back through the bridge bulkhead his mind flashed back to fishing Cal and the others out of the water, not knowing if the kid was going to die or not. 

“Cal!” Cere yelled as she darted out of Mantis with Greez on her heels. 

By the time the two had made it out of Mantis, Trilla and the speeder’s driver were hauling Cal out of the backseat. Without a moment’s hesitation, the driver started barking orders as presumably his crew poured out of the other ship. Cal was handed off to the makeshift droid who handled him like a kitten in its huge arms before the driver turned to Greez and Cere. He leveled one green eye on Greez and nodded before handing him a datastick. 

“You’re the pilot.” He said. “Those are the coordinates to my station, the Jedi’s been injured by some Imp prototype. He needs a blood transfusion and probably a new kidney judging from the wound. I’ve got the equipment to keep him stable on my ship and a doctor waiting back at base, so if you don’t mind meeting us there we can be off before an Imp cruiser starts leveling this side of the planet.”

“Kathis Blackfire, I presume.” Cere said, something passing between the two as their gazes locked.

“Another one?” The driver asked, flashing Cere a gap toothed grin. “I go by Rowan, but the name Granny picked out for me was Kathis. Listen, you’re friend is in bad shape and a fucking inquisitor is on our ass, so how about we save the introductions until after jumping out of here?” 

“Cal rides with us.” Cere said. 

“Do you have an autodoc on that yacht of yours?” Rowan asked. “A transfusion kit? An antibiotic suite? Even a sanitation protocol? I know you want to take care of your own, but he’s been stabbed in the gecking kidney and is probably bleeding internally. Now’s not the time to play musical star ships.” 

“He’s right.” Trilla said, appearing at Cere’s side something black and thin in her hand. “We need to move, for Cal’s sake and ours. The Ninth sister is leading a band of purge troopers here right now, and she’s been grafted to a weapon forbidden by the Emperor himself before now. We need to-”

Trilla was cut off as a hail of blaster fire cut through the air around them. She bounded forward shielding Cere and Greez as she pushed them back up the Mantis’ gang way. Rowan meanwhile unsheathed his tonfas and had begun laying down his own volley of lighter fire. He fell back to his ship as the Cinnamon Wind’s engines began to cycle. Just before he disappeared into the ship’s hold, Rowan turned to Greez and mimed out a seven number sequence. A sequence Greez knew was an encryption cipher key, probably for the datastick’s encryption algorithm. 

“Greez!” Trilla yelled from the bridge. “We need to go!” 

Greez turned and ran to his chair, coaxing the Mantis to full capacity as he stabbed the datastick into his terminal. He keyed in the numbers and watched as the encryption was deactivated and his nav computer extracted the coordinates. A loud crash drew his gaze up from the computer and he saw the Cinnamon Wind lift up through the tree cover ripping their hiding space open before blasting off. With a grunt he pulled up on his controls and had the Mantis rocketing in the other direction just as heavy blaster fire started to pepper her hull. 

“I’m coming kid.” he muttered as they shot through the air and into hyperspace once they cleared atmosphere. 

????????

Twelve hours later…

Trilla sat in the dining area staring at the sliver of black metal around ten inches long floating inside of a small containment tube. Cal’s blood coated it, still wet despite it being over half a day since she’d pulled it out of his side. She could feel the power of the sliver, the coiling darkness that whispered to her hatred, her anger, and her greed all at once. A power that had been used to torture her until she let it in and start to rot her from the inside out. This little sliver was so inundated with dark side energy that she half suspected the thing would glow a bright red if she ran some electricity through it. 

“That was inside Cal?” Cere said, sitting across from Trilla. 

“Yes, the Ninth sister’s thrust was mostly blunted by the speeder’s chasis but a sliver made it through.” Trilla explained, watching her former master’s eyes linger on the sliver. 

“You said this was a weapon?” Cere asked, forcing herself to look up from the sliver. “A weapon even the Emperor wouldn’t use?”

“I misspoke.” Trilla said. “I previously believed that he wouldn’t waste an Inquisitor to deploy this...thing. The Emperor found it on a dead world in the deep core. A hollow world that had been left a shell floating in space, or so the rumors say. There at the center of that strange planet he found a sphere, kyberite warped by the dark side, twisted even more than the Emperor himself. Expose it to Baskar and it creates a force amplifying alloy then once it’s exposed to flesh it begins to form a parasitic relationship with the host. It greatly enhances their power, but twists them into a monster. Well, even more of a monster.” 

“Does it kill the host?” Cere asked. 

“In a way, yes.” Trilla said. “Eventually their spirit and mind are consumed by the dark side. Though it can take time depending on the will of the host, the corruption spreads and they eventually devolve into a hateful facsimile of who they were. Their skill and talent devoured for raw power and their memory corrupted to feed never ending hate. Imagine the most pathetic sith, lost to their own power and hatred, but empowered far beyond the limits of a normal organic. The Emperor ordered it locked away and only used as punishment for assets that fail the Inquisition.” 

“She survived Kashyk just to be grafted to a parasite.” Cere said, her eyes once again locked onto the sliver.

“Force sensitivity is rare but not rare enough that an inquisitor can be made an example of.” Trilla said, tapping a button on the side of the containment tube turning the glass opaque. “Cere, how are you feeling?” 

“Fine.” Cere said, blinking away a far off look in her eyes. “I’m fine.” 

“I know more than anyone the allure of the dark side, Cere.” Trilla said, tentatively reaching across the table to rest her hand on Cere’s. “The light can sting to the eyes of those who’ve been in the shade, but no matter what we can’t let it tempt us again.” 

“Trilla...” Cere said, her fingers wrapping around Trilla’s. “I’m so-” 

“You don’t need to say it.” Trilla said, withdrawing her hand. “I don’t blame you anymore.” 

“But you don’t forgive me either.” Cere said, no hint of a question in her voice. 

“Have you heard anything about Cal?” Trilla asked, refusing to look her former master in the eye. 

“Yes, managed to get a line to the Cinnamon Wind once we left the system.” Cere explained, putting her hands on her lap. “Ca’s stable after a blood transfusion, but his kidney is badly damaged. He’ll need a transplant which our new friends say they can provide. Apparently Rowan runs an organ trading buisness to fund his...hunting.” 

“This Rowan sounds more and more trustworthy by the minute.” Trilla said. 

“They claim to be cloning the organs instead of harvesting them.” Cere said, shrugging. 

“Well when has cloning and Jedi ever been a bad combination?” Trilla asked with a dark chuckle.

????

Cal was lost to his dream. He vaguely remembered the speeder and the sharp pain in his side, but as he wandered deeper into the depths of his dream the memory faded out to back ground noise. Background noise that tickled at his mind as he walked through a thick forest, tall trees old as the sky with roots so tightly woven that the ground was like stone. A strange gloom hung over the place as if dawn and dusk were fighting for control of the light. 

On he walked through the trees until he came across a building that with two huge smoke stacks spewing sweet smelling vapors. It took him a moment, but Cal eventually realized that the building was a bakery of some kind. Sitting out front was a young dark skinned woman dressed in a regal suit sipping at a steaming mug as she talked with a young man with flour caking his apron. The young woman reached forward and entwined her fingers with his before drawing in for a kiss. Cal looked away and shook his head only for the bakery to dissolve away, morphing into an inferno. 

He watched a mansion burn as snow fell all around. The same young woman, now dressed in a night gown, was on the ground screaming as she clutched a bundle to her body. Then the image shifted again and Cal watched a girl, no older than three, be led away from the young woman and what had to be a younger version of Moira Blackfire by a woman in Jedi robes. As the Jedi and the girl walked out of sight, the vision changed again to a young woman standing with her back to him. 

She was alone and dressed in what looked like modified clone trooper armor, Katarn class commando armor by the looks of it. Even through this vision, Cal could tell the force was strong in her and he reached out through the force instinctively. As he did, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at him revealing her face to be a feminine mirror of Rowan Blackfire’s. 

A sense of deja vu washed over him, and Cal felt a familiar aura around the girl as she turned to consider him. Maybe it was in the way she stood or the twinkle in her dark green eyes, but as they considered each other Cal couldn’t help but think of Rowan. Then Cal noticed something in her left hand, an object carved out of a bright green crystal and etched with dense script. It looked like a holocron, but far more intricate than any he’d ever seen. 

“Solemnace.” The girl said drawing his gaze up from the object. 

“Solemnace?” Cal asked as the world began to dissolve around them. 

“The key is on Solemnace.” She replied, holding up the object and letting it dissolve away. 

“The key to what?” Cal asked, the ground giving way in chunks at his feet. 

“The door buried beneath our order’s first home.” She said before dissolving into shadow as the world collapsed around them, leaving Cal to be smothered by darkness. 

???

Vader walked through the silent forges as fast as his cumbersome cybernetics would allow. Hatred and rage fueled every step as he walked, lamenting this damnable place with every strained breath. Outside the synthetic opal windows, Mustafar’s vast lava flows bubbled and spilled across the scorched surface in the great rivers that warded most from even considering a landing on the planet. He liked that, despite all of the bad memories this planet had to off there was some solace to be taken in the isolation of the planet. Of course, it’s powerful connection to the dark side helped too. 

Soon, his palace would be complete and if his modifications to its design performed as he hoped then his chance would come. The chance to slip the diluted physical pain that fueled his current meager powers and to slip into a state of oneness with the dark side that not even his Master could fathom. For as he walked, Vader could still feel the Force all around him even if he could not tap into it with his master’s “augmentations” constraining him so. It was there, waiting for him, waiting for the chosen one to bring balance to the Force as was his destiny. Waiting for the rule of two to be fuffiled by the destruction of his "master".

Anakin Skywalker’s destiny you mean? 

He stopped walking and clenched his fists, the metal of the walls warping as the voice whispered in his ear. 

“I have no need of more ghosts.” Vader said, turning to the hooded apparition behind him. “The last I vanquished when he attempted to hijack my castle.” 

“That was a spirit of a Sith, Vader.” The apparition said in a voice that Vader recognized from his childhood. “A powerful one, that is true, but a spirit maintained by an anchor in this world and his own greed. I am more powerful in the force than that lost soul could ever imagine.” 

“Then leave me to my work and go annoy my master.” Vader said, hand slipping down to his light saber. “He is very interested in those who have come back from the dead after all.” 

“Sidious is far beyond my help or even the greatest powers of the Force.” The apparition said. “But you are not, even now he plots to replace you. Not today or tomorrow, but one day another will rise who he will attempt to bring into the darkness, and with him strike you down.” 

“I don’t think I will allow that to happen.” Vader said, releasing his grip on his saber and turning. “No one can kill me.” 

“I wish that were so.” The apparition said, letting Vader slip further into the belly of his castle. 

????

Cal woke into a world of sterile white light and the smell of anti septic. As his awareness slowly returned to him, Cal noted that he was in a moderately comfortable bed and his body felt good. Exhausted and hungrier than he’d ever been, but good. The aches and pains of his wounds were there, but more a nagging reminder than the pulsing throbbing he’d felt during the escape from…the Ninth sister. He remembered the cold of the blade sliding into his side, somehow cutting through the speeder and into his flesh. 

He sat up and ran his hand down his side where an incision scar ran a few inches across his skin. Furrowing his brow, Cal looked around and saw that he was in a small and cluttered infirmary with tall shelves stocked with seemingly every medical device and medicine Cal had ever seen. Despite the clutter, the Infirmary was probably the nicest he’d seen since before the Purge. Well, it was nice enough to look at while he allowed his mental faculties to slowly come back online. Then the doors opened and a tall creature stepped into the room and considered him with huge grey eyes. 

“Jedi, it is good to see you awake.” The creature, a female Kaminoan Cal realized, said. “Are you experiencing any discomfort after the surgery?” 

“I’m feeling great actually.” Cal said before processing her question. “Wait, what do you mean surgery?” 

“You experienced a laceration to your left kidney and severe blood loss.” The Kaminoan said. “My employer provided blood transfusions and ordered a kidney to be flash cloned for transplant. I can safely say that the transplant was a success and your recovery time has been shortened by concentrated bacta application and your companion’s holistic method. The only lasting side effect is that your caloric energy stores are near depleted.” 

“Is that why I’m so hungry?” Cal asked. 

“Yes, all of your internal nutrients were consumed by the quickened process.” The Kaminoan explained. “If you wish, my employer has invited you to breakfast, and I recommend that you sate your hunger as soon as possible. You will find your things in the bin next to your bed.” 

With that, the Kaminoan turned on her heels and left Cal to his confusion. A moment later the space in front of him flashed green and Merrin appeared to gently push him back onto the bed. She didn’t say anything at first, just ran her fingers over his neck and face. Sending feelers of energy into his muscle, surveying his condition with her strange force magicks. After a few minutes of that, Merrin sighed and smiled down at him. 

“Thought I would have to save you again, Cal Kestis.” She whispered. 

“You didn’t?” Cal asked, managing a chuckle despite her weight resting on him. 

“No, our host did.” She said, her smile getting just a little warmer. “When you were losing blood he offered his. Apparently he is a “universal donor”.” 

“Good to know in case I need to top off the tank.” Cal said. “And the kidney transplant?” 

“You will have to ask him.” Merrin said slipping off him to stand by the bed. “His explanation involved something called a Spaarti cylinder and that tall fish woman.” 

“Flash cloning then.” Cal said, patting his side. “I remember Spaarti being a competitor to the Kaminoans, quicker but the clones they made were more volatile.” 

“More volatile than the clones you served with?” Merrin said handing him his clothes neatly folded into a stack. 

“Surprisingly, yes.” Cal said, as he stood to get dressed. “How long have I been out?” 

“A week, you were unconscious when we arrived, and the fish woman put you into a coma to aid your healing.” Merrin said, leaning against a wall and making it very obvious she was enjoying watching him dress. “The others are delayed by an Imperial blockade, but they should be arriving tomorrow.

“They made it out, good.” Cal said slipping the last of his clothes on and sliding his light saber into it’s place. “What about our hosts? You’ve taken a look around I’d guess.” 

“Yes, we are in a space station, a big one.” Merrin said, fixing a strap on his shirt. “The facility itself is very big, but no bigger than some of the temples on Dathomir. Split into living areas, working areas, a communications room, and other rooms that serve the facility as a whole. The “boss”, Rowan, is interesting, he follows me sometimes, follows me closer than most are capable of. But, I sense no malice from him or the others who serve him. Suspicion and caution yes, but no malice.”

“I don’t think they’d have given me a kidney if they had malicious intent.” Cal said, chuckling darkly. 

“I do not feel this Rowan is the type of man who trades in gifts, Cal.” Merrin said before gesturing to the door. “Come, we have been invited to breakfast.” 

Merrin led Cal out into a network of hallways and down one hall towards the sounds of voices. They stepped from the hall into a spacious dining room where Rowan sat at the head of a sprawling stone table supervising two young girls, one on each side of him, as they ate fruit mash. The two girls, each probably no more than a year or two old, had light brown skin and small nubby horns accented by mahogany colored hair. When Merrin and Cal stepped into the room the two girls looked up from the breakfast scattered across their high chairs and began patting Rowan’s arms. 

“Da! Murrin is here.” One said. 

“Da! The sleepy man is awake.” The other said. 

“Thank you sweeties.” Rowan said, gently brushing away the girls’ assault. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Jedi. Sit down, breakfast will be out in just a moment, and I have something I want to discuss with you.” 

“I suspected you would.” Cal said, slipping into a chair as Merrin did the same next to him. “Are these two your-” 

“Daughters?” Rowan asked. “Yes, just turned two last month, Roweyna and Reywan say hello to Cal Kestis. He’s going to be going on a buisness trip with daddy soon.” 

“Hi!” The twins said in unison before returning to playing with their breakfast. 

“Hi.” Cal said, smiling at the girls before turning to their father. “What do you mean by a buisness trip?” 

“Eat something first.” Rowan ordered as a hulking droid entered with two piping hot plates full steaming food. “We can talk buisness after you fill your stomachs.” 

When Cal and Merrin were done eating, Rowan placed his daughters into a playpen and led the pair to his workshop. It was a space much larger than the dining hall and filled with machinery of all kinds. Cal noticed that the Astroforge had been installed at the center of the room, and that it had been integrated alongside equipment dedicated to everything from chemistry and manufacturing to engraving and dyeing. 

“So, the way I see it, you owe me for the price of a top quality kidney plus the blood I so graciously donated.” Rowan said, walking to an over stuffed work bench at the center of the room and leaning into it. “Naturally, I don’t want to go back to Karro anytime soon, I have a nice space station where the Imps can’t find me and a very lucrative buisness in the cloned organ trade. But, when a Jedi walks into your lap you’d be a fool to not make use of him. I’m looking for something, someone, and Cal I think I can find both if you help me.” 

“You’re looking for a Jedi.” Cal said, the visions in his dream tickling his brain. “And a key.” 

“And here I thought that Jedi intuition was exaggerated.” Rowan said, withdrawing something from his pocket and handing it to Cal. 

Cal looked down at the object and blinked as he felt a powerful force signature pulse out from it. It appeared to be a silver compass, engraved in detailed constellations and trimmed in gold, but Cal knew it was far more than that. He clicked it open to reveal an intricate set of internal machinery built around a softly glowing sapphire. Gauges and needles spun round and round on the compass’ face as Cal’s perception washed over it, as if it was saying hello. 

“That is a star compass, pre-Republic era.” Rowan explained, gently wiping mash off his daughters’ faces as he talked. “The gem at its center is a piece of ancient kyber crystal, hyper compacted by millions of years beneath a mountain. Ancient force users, the precursors to the Jedi and the Sith in fact, used compasses like these to navigate the galaxy and find hidden pathways to places no non Force sensitive could find.” 

“There were a few of these in the temple archives.” Cal said, remembering several scoldings for smudging the compass display’s glass as a young padawan. “Though none of them were this complex.” 

“From what I’ve been able to dredge up that compass was built during the last days of Tython.” Rowan explained. “Before the whole system was abandoned, Tython was the center of the galaxy for most Force users before and long before that, the seat of a race that had mastered hyperspace through the Force. Somewhere on Tython is a gate, a doorway to a pocket dimension where the greatest scientific discovery of our era waits.” 

“And what would that be?” Cal asked. 

“The wireless transfer of immense power through hyper space.” Rowan said, turning to slap his hand on a remote summoning a holographic display of a star with thousands of specks orbiting it and a massive ring. “From the records I’ve dug up, in this pocket dimension is a device that represents utter mastery of hyperspace and the power to circumvent the Imps.” 

“What is this?” Merrin asked, watching the display with cautious curiosity. 

“I call it a solar swarm, imagine a swarm of mirrors directing sun light into a collection ring.” Rowan explained. “Once that light is transformed into electricity it can be beamed or transferred to planets, whole systems if need be. All I need is the resources to build just one, a decently sized planet would probably do the trick, and the secrets buried on Tython. With all of that, I can build swarms in isolated systems all across the rim and beam power to anyone not wearing impeccably cut grey uniforms.” 

“If I’m following you, you want us to help you find a Jedi who knows something about this key, correct?” Cal asked. 

“Yes.” Rowan said, a hint of desperation glinting in his eye for a moment, like flint on steel. “

Cal stared at Rowan for a long moment, reached out with the Force to probe his emotions. There was something being held back, and Cal knew what it was just as he knew that Rowan was looking for the key. The young man wasn’t just searching for hyper space secrets, but someone that was taken from him when he was a child. 

“Rowan, why did your family fake your death?” Cal asked. 

“As my grandmother is fond of saying, sometimes death is a useful disguise.” Rowan said, looking Cal in the eye before sighing. “It’s also a good way to hide a Force sensitive child from the Jedi.” 

“I’m guessing you weren’t the only one that was supposed to “die” that night, right?” Cal asked. 

“No.” Rowan said, turning away to stare at the display. “Her name was Kella, she was my twin sister and taken by the Jedi when she was three years old and lifted a rock without using her hands. I would have been taken too if Granny hadn’t arranged for a fire in our room that night.” 

“You think this sister of yours is alive?” Merrin asked. “I thought that Jedi were all killed, save for a few scattered survivors.” 

“Kella’s not dead.” Rowan said, gripping the side of the workbench until his knuckles went white. “I’ve felt her my entire life, be it a hallucination or the Force connecting us, I can still feel her.”

“Not only that.” Rowan said, turning to face them both and snatching the compass out of Cal’s hands. “But she’s looking for the same thing I am. I’ve been tracking her for more than a year now, she’s moving through the shadows, hunting after scattered bits of lore and artifacts just like me. I found this compass, well more liberated it from a planetary governor, and it can take us to the gate. Kella on the other hand is looking for-” 

“The key?” Merrin asked. “For what use is a door you cannot open, eh?” 

“Exactly.” Rowan said, snapping his fingers. “I believe Kella has the key, or is getting close to finding it.”

“Alright, if she has the key and you have the map.” Cal said, thinking over Rowan’s words. “Then why not go find your long lost sister and uncover the secrets yourself? Why not just give us the slip?” 

“Well...” Rowan said, scratching the back of his head. “She sort of wants to kill me.” 

“Why?” Cal and Merrin asked. 

“I might have stolen this compass from her before I realized who she was.” Rowan explained. “And I might have killed her pet when I blew up her ship as a distraction.” 

“Trilla was right about him.” Merrin said, looking to Cal. “He is a terrorist.”


	4. Cal's five

“Welcome to Solemnace.” An automated voice said through the Mantis’ bridge speakers. “Please allow up to an hour for the entry gate to cycle before attempting entry. Thank you and have a wonderful visit to the Galaxy’s greatest cultural repository.” 

“Why does it take a bleeding hour to get through a shield gate?” Rowan asked, his voice crackling through Cal’s communicator.

The Mantis and the Cinnamon Wind were currently locked together. A jury rigged chassis loaded with hollow gas canisters disguising the spot welding that temporarily bound the two vessels together. To any but the most observant, the two ships would appear to be a single junker probably on a treasure hunting run into the Deep Core. Stopping at Solemnace, the last “core world” before entering the shallows of the Deep Core, for supplies.

“The entire planet is essentially a museum.” Trilla said from her seat in the bridge. “Fitting that their planetary shield is as old as the Emperor.” 

Cal stood at the holo-display, staring at a holographic representation of Solemnace and the massive planetary shield encasing it. They’d spent the last week and a half sneaking through the minor hyperspace lanes to reach this old planet, and Cal was almost surprised that even with the wait they were making good time. Just another hour and they’d be on Solemnace’s surface and on Kella’s trail. 

“Fair enough I suppose.” Rowan grumbled. “But this is why I prefer books. Listen, I’ve got some last minute adjustments to make on the equipment, so I’ll be signing off. Just have Greez take us in nice and easy, so I don’t cut my arm off or something.” 

“Of course I will.” Trilla said. “You’re making my new light saber parts for me, and if you were injured before completing them I’d be oh so inconvenienced.” 

“Glad to be wanted I suppose.” Rowan said before his feed clicked out. 

“Engineers.” Trilla lamented. 

“Rowan’s making you light saber parts?” Cal asked, stepping onto the bridge where Trilla sat watching space go by. 

“Yes, I need a new light saber if I’m ever going to be useful again.” Trilla said, pointing her ruined inquisitor's saber at Cal. “Plus, my kyber crystal was all but destroyed in our escape and even if it was intact I don’t think it would answer me again once purified. So, I’ve commissioned parts from Rowan, made with the Phrik left over after his little “project” was sorted out. Perhaps I’ll find a new crystal on Tython, since Illum is out of our reach now.” 

“About that.” Cal said, leaning against the door way. “What do you actually know about the place? All I ever heard was stories that the precursor to the Jedi were founded there, and some whispers about the Sith order forming there too. Everything else was just the odd tidbits padawan come up with after lights out.” 

“It was never much more than a footnote in the archives when I was training, truly.” Trilla said. “Though I’m sure we heard most of the same stories, but it’s a place that not even the Emperor knows what to do with if my reading between the lines of Inquisitorial communiques is anything to go by. The entire planet is intensely tethered to the Force and can kill anyone who’s not Force sensitive. Makes it difficult to exploit without a work force of Force sensitives or droid infrastructure, both far more expensive to develop than simply exploiting some of the softer targets in the Deep Core.” 

“Softer targets?” Cal asked. 

“Oh you know, tucked away garden worlds, ancient ruins of the Rakatan empire, excellent hiding holes for Imperial ship yards and fortress worlds, and so many anomalies it’s a wonder it doesn’t drive some poor scientist mad.” Trilla explained, a rare chuckle lighting her eyes. “There were even rumors that the Emperor has some sort of personal cloning facility tucked away somewhere, waiting with a batch young clones for the day the prune’s heart gives out. How stupid is that?” 

“Sounds a bit out there to me.” Cal said, wondering if it was even possible to clone a force sensitive. “You think Rowan’s angling for a kyber crystal? He seems like the kind of guy who wants a light saber just to sate his curiosity. I could cut so much metal.” 

“I heard that.” Rowan said, a holographic version of him appearing on Trilla’s console. “But yes, I do want a kyber crystal of my own. You have any idea what a blade like a light saber can do in the hands of a true craftsmen?” 

“Were you listening to that entire conversation?” Trilla asked, her tone caught between frustration and admiration. 

“Yes, you really need to upgrade security on your direct inputs.” Rowan said. “My twins could slice their way into your system as it stands. Come to think of that, I need to call home and make sure the girls haven’t driven Teek and Iro mad yet. Over and out.” 

“Well then.” Trilla sighed. “I know what I’ll be doing for the next hour.” 

????????

Two hours later…

Trilla and Cal stood in the Mantis’ sitting room waiting on Rowan. They’d cleared customs with no trouble had to wait the better part of an hour for a docking space to open up, and now they were waiting for Rowan to show himself. He’d gone radio silent shortly after breaching their security, something that Greez and Trilla had spent the time taxiing taking bets on. 

“I’m telling you that mountain of a wife of his is the reason.” Greez said, walking in to flop down on the couch. 

“Uh Greez, isn’t there a ship for you to land?” Cal asked. 

“Nah, this port’s got so much money flowing into it that they have a tractor beam assisted landing protocol.” Greez said, patting his head. “Hardly have to do a thing, just let the auto pilot bring her in nice and slow. Now, I’ve got a hundred credits that the horned giant has him “distracted”, what do you say?” 

“Two hundred says he’s so obsessed with fine tuning the equipment she could splay herself naked across his work bench and hardly notice.” Trilla said, offering her hand. 

“You’re on!” Greez said slapping his hand into hers to shake on it. 

“Ye’d be surprised.” 

They turned to the Mantis’ entry way where Rowan’s wife, Reyna, stood. She was dressed in reinforced traveling clothes made of sea foam grey material reinforced with Phrik plating near the vitals. Thick copper bands were fastened to her horns and a custom heavy sonic rifle balanced against her shoulder. Standing beside her was Rowan himself, dressed in red trimmed armor that clung to his lean form with reinforced cloth over clothes that no doubt hid pockets and ammo slings. His legs up to his knees were wrapped in light weight leg guards and his arms were similarly encased in light weight full glove gauntlets. A pair of Phrik cast weapons, some kind of customized tonfas, one short and one long hung off his hips, completing the look. 

“Well, aren’t you two a pair.” Trilla said. 

“Thank ye, we do look mighty cute, don’t we?” Reyna said. 

“We look deadly, not cute.” Rowan said before his wife snuck a kiss on the top of his head and he looked up at her. “Songbird, can you not make me look-” 

He was cut off by Reyna planting a kiss on his lips and patting his cheek. 

“No, I don’t think so.” She said, winking at him. 

“Moving on!” Rowan exclaimed turning around. “I’ve got gifts for the two of you.” 

He hefted a beat up tool box out from behind him and placed it at Trilla and Cal’s feet. 

“For Miss Sunshine, a complete set of Phrik strengthened light saber parts.” Rowan said, opening the tool box and pulling out a smaller case from the box before handing it to Trilla. “Should have everything you need to build a saber, customization options will cost you extra though.” 

“Thank you, but I can borrow some of Cal’s if I need to.” Trilla said, as she ran her fingers over the case. “I don’t think I’ll need much.” 

“A woman after my own heart.” Rowan said, pulling out a set of gauntlets from the tool box and offering them to Cal. “For the Jedi, a set of Phrik gauntlets just in case you find yourself in a fist fight with a light saber.” 

“I don’t remember you taking any measurements.” Cal said, slipping one of the gauntlets on finding it to be an almost perfect fit. “Oh, that feels nice.” 

“I’m a stickler for quality.” Rowan explained, as he rummaged through the box. “Be it a fresh kidney or a nice set of gauntlets, I aim to please the customer. Now, Miss Merrin this is for you.” 

Rowan pulled a pair of sheathed blades out of the box. One was a wide short sword while the other was a thin dagger, the former almost two feet long while the latter was only around a foot. Without looking, Rowan held both blades in one hand and offered them to the empty air to his left. With a flash of green, Merrin appeared and gently took the weapons from his hand. 

“Thank you Rowan.” She said, stepping back to examine the blades. 

“Don’t mention it.” Rowan said, smiling at the night sister warmly before turning to Cal. “It’s been added to your bill.” 

“Let me get my accountant right on that.” Cal said, rolling his eyes. “So, I’m assuming we have some sort of plan?” 

“We do.” Rowan said gesturing to Reyna. “My beautiful wife has worked out where our target is and just how to get to it. Songbird, the stage is yours.” 

“Thank ye love, Our target is one of the displays in a spire housing a collection known as the Infinite Reliquary.” Reyna explained stepping to the holo table and summoning the image of a tall spire. “Over three hundred floors of relics, knick knacks, and oddities from all over the galaxy's history. All of it owned by a right primp collector by the name of Trazen. He’s got lots of connections with the Imps and the Rebellion if ye can believe the rumors. The man’s obsessed with rare and unique knick knacks, especially anything related to the Deep Core and the pre republic era.” 

“Including Tython and the civilizations that used to rule the galaxy.” Rowan added. 

“How do you know he has this key?” Merrin asked. “Surely, finding a single artifact in a collection so large would be near impossible.”

“Besides Cal’s dream about my sister?” Rowan said, raising an eyebrow at the night sister before continuing. “Granny’s known Trazen for most of his career, his ilk has been supplying the collectors in the Blackfire family tree for decades. That gives us a few ears in the walls.” 

“Aye, and one of those ears sang a sweet little song about how Trazen’s been in a bit of a feud with another scholar, some professor who calls himself the Diviner.” Reyna explained. “They’ve been stealing things from each other for the better part of fifty years, and if me leads hold true, Trazen stole our key from the primped professor’s vaults last month.” 

“Are we just going to walk in and take it then?” Cal asked. “This Trazen guy doesn’t seem to be the type to leave something like this on kitchen counter.” 

“Very astute of ye Cal.” Reyna said. “That’s why Rowan, Trilla, and I will go in to meet with Trazen. Lucky for me, Rowan knicked Granny’s seal when we left Karro and that should get us a meeting at the very least. We’ll be playing a plucky young trio of mercenaries with a hot lead on some buried treasure out in the Deep Core, all we need is a little seed money from a man of culture. Meanwhile, ye, Merrin, and BD-1 will sneak in behind us to find the key. Trazen’s keeping it in a Tython display on the 66th floor, so it should be simple to sneak and snag it, got that?” 

“That’s the plan?” Cal asked. “Leaves a lot to chance.”

“Considering that A. the entire Empire is hunting you and B. my sister may or may not already be on Solemnace, yes that is the plan.” Rowan said, tapping a few keys and shifting the display to a blue print of the 66th floor. “Trazen seems to think that the key is just an old Tython paper weight, so the security is lighter than else where in the collection. BD-1 should be more than capable of splicing you into the maintenance elevator and deal with the alarms, isn’t that right?”

“Beep!” BD-1 chirped. 

“See, you’re in good hands.” Rowan said, before pointing at a duct running down the center of the spire. “Once you’ve got the key, get to this ventilation shaft and you can use to reach the freight tunnels the city uses.”

“It’s not the worst plan to be honest, especially with a thought out escape route.” Cal said, looking to Merrin. “Think you can muster up another invisibility spell?” 

“Well, you’re not an entire space ship, but I think I can manage.” Merrin said, wrapping her arm in his.

????

Trilla stepped into the lobby of Trazen’s tower with Reyna and Rowan to either side. The lobby was a space larger than most Imperial mess halls and almost completely filled with displays of knick knacks. From antique blasters and vibro blades to clay pottery and bone carvings, thousands of years of galactic history was on display right before her very eyes. Most of it she recognized from museums that had once stood on Coruscant.

“Why am I taking the lead again?” She whispered at Rowan. 

“You possess a certain arrogance that goes well with underlings used to licking boots.” Rowan whispered back. “Just act natural and flash the seal at the receptionist, with any luck he’ll prostrate himself then and there.” 

Trilla sighed, and clutched the Blackfire seal tight in her hand as she stepped forward. The displays formed a natural corridor to a receptionist’s desk, carved out of what looked to be a section of a Kashyyk tree. Sitting behind the desk was a decrepit old man dressed in a faded Imperial archivist uniform, scratching something into a hand terminal. As they approached, the old man looked up and smiled at Trilla. 

“Well hello there.” He said, putting his hand terminal down. “What buisness do you young people have with the Infinite Reliquary today?” 

“My name is Trilla Blackburn, cousin to Lady Moira Blackfire.” Trilla said, channeling every drop of Imperial superiority at her disposal as she clacked the seal on the desktop. “We’re here to see your master about an opportunity he’d be stupid to ignore. Send for him immediately, and have someone fetch us something to drink.” 

“Um.” The old man said. “Well miss Blackburn, I do recognize your name and have nothing but the utmost respect for our relationship with your family, but Sir Trazen is bust with another client and I just can’t interrupt his...” 

“Pyotor!” A proud voice said through a speaker on the desk. “Where are the Acadian Vault items I ordered to be delivered to my solar?!” 

“Excuse me.” The old man said. “I am so sorry Sir Trazen, but I was in the middle of sending the order when I was interrupted by an associate of Lady Moira interrupted...” 

“An associate of Lady Moira?!” The voice, apparently Trazen, yelled. “Send them up and tell them to wait in my smoking room and make sure I get what I ordered!” 

“Of course Sir Trazen.” Pyotor said, sighing as the connection closed with a click. “If you will follow me, Miss Trilla, I will guide you to Sir Trazen’s smoking room. Please tell your associates not to touch any of the Sir’s antiques on display.” 

“Of course.” Trilla said. “Can’t have the help smudging the décor, now can we?” 

“So nice to see that there are still young people who respect proper protocol.” Pyotor said, shuffling out from behind his desk to lead them towards a bank of lifts. “Protocol is what separates us from the savages who fight against the ordering of the universe. The Infinite Reliquary was built to preserve the histories and artifacts of the galaxy, so that those with a proper respect for order may enjoy them.” 

“They be enjoyed by not many others besides Trazen from what I hear.” Reyna said, ducking to avoid hitting a chandelier with her horns. 

“Sir Trazen is possessed of a certain...possessiveness when it comes to the exhibits that is true.” Pyotor said, stopping before a lift control panel and keying in an access code that Trilla memorized. “But his dedication to the preservation of history is entirely selfless I can assure you.” 

“I’m sure it is.” Trilla said, as the lift doors opened. 

“Now, I must complete the order Sir Trazen assigned me.” Pyotor said, bowing as he stepped aside. “Take this lift to the two hundred and ninety-eighth floor and wait in Sir Trazen’s sitting room for his meeting to finish.” 

“Thank you Pyotor.” Trilla said. “I will tell Sir Trazen of your good work.”

“You are too kind.” The receptionist said, shuffling away swifter than his age should have allowed. 

Trilla turned back to the lift and stepped in. The moment her foot touched the floor every nerve in her body screamed as cold washed over her. Her eyes widened and bullets of sweat formed on her brow as an oppressive signature in the Force filled her perception for a single moment. But a moment was all it took, because she knew this presence. Knew it in her heart of hearts where her deepest darkest fears lay. 

“Vader.” She whispered. 

????? 

Vader stood at the window, looking out over the city of Solemn and watching the light play off the planetary shield. Once, in another life, he loved to fly as close to the outer shell of shields just like this one. Let the planets gravity and the Force guide him over the surface, mere inches away from being crashing into the shield at any given moment. He remembered the feel of adrenaline in his veins and Asoka's voice on the comms telling him to stop showing off. 

With thought, Vader banished the memory. Pressing the wounds in his soul until pain radiated out through every cell, darkness answering his call. Raw power replacing the melancholy of memory and pushing who he was back into the past. There was only Vader now, and Vader he would be until the day he died. 

“Lord Vader, the items you requested have arrived.”

Vader turned to face the broker. Trazen was a gaunt old man, his physical body kept alive through almost as many obvious cybernetics and rejuvenation treatments as Vader himself. He was a risk of course, any known entity in the Empire was a risk so long as Vader walked this path, but the risk was mitigated by how close he was to his goal. His Master was not a stupid man, he had usurped the Republic without revealing his true nature till the very end after all, but even he wouldn't’ think twice of his moping apprentice buying knick knacks. 

“It is about time.” Vader said, approaching the table of artifacts. “My patience was growing thin.” 

“Many apologies Lord Vader.” Trazen said, wringing his metal fingers. “My chief assistant is as old as some of the relics I keep on display. He is invaluable in archiving, but his speed left him many years ago. But enough with such trivial things, we’re here to discuss buisness, yes? Come Lord Vader, and see what Trazen has brought you this day.” 

Trazen stepped to the table and clapped his metal hands together, switching on a light built into the surface of the table itself. Vader looked over the collection of objects on the table, most were assorted pieces of ancient armor some even so old that it was made of stone with several kyber crystals of varying sizes mixed among them. The center piece of the collection was different however, it was a mask forged in an ancient Mandolorian style with a scratch running down the left part of the mask, and as Vader reached out to touch it he could feel that it was an anchor in the force. Not of light or dark, but somewhere in between like the divide where two seas met but could did not mix. 

Let us hope that this mask is less troublesome than the last. Vader thought to himself as he withdrew his hand. 

“These are acceptable.” Vader said, looking up at Trazen. “I will take them all.” 

“I am glad that you find my wares pleasing Lord Vader, but these artifacts were very difficult to acquire.” Trazen began, totally unafraid of the Sith lord in his presence. “I would expect payment in kind for the effort expended in acquiring these delightful objects.” 

“Of course.” Vader said, opening his hand and pulling a large case from the grasp of storm trooper standing at attention by the door and placing it on the table. 

He released the latch and opened the metal shielding to reveal glass case within containing a cracked stone mask. 

“The mask of Darth Momin, the Sith’s greatest architect and scholar.” Vader said. “A soul after your own heart, and the final missing piece to your exhibit on the great Sith thinkers I’m told.” 

“Oh Lord Vader….” Trazen blubbered, practically drooling at the sight of the mask. “This will do nicely, very nicely indeed. The mask of Momin himself in exchange for what I have gathered is more than a fair trade in my eyes! Come, let us toast this glorious day.” 

“No.” Vader said, ordering his two troopers to load his new possessions into a transport crate. “My buisness is done here-” 

He trailed off as a reverberation in the Force caught his attention. It was slight, barely more than a ripple in the wider energies around, and his faulty cybernetics certainly didn’t help as he tried to find it again. Vader pressed a button on his respirator, flooding his lungs with a burst of pure oxygen and reached out to the Force around him. Sure enough there were two familiar signatures in the Force, and three more he didn’t recognize. 

“Kestis, Suduri, and friends.” He said as his perception shrank back to his physical form. “How the Force weaves our paths, eh?” 

“Lord Vader, is something the matter?” Trazen asked, as a high pitched beeping started in one of his earrings. 

“Allow me to guess, Trazen.” Vader said. “One of your exhibits has been breached.” 

“Yes, the Tython exhibit on the 66th floor.” Trazen said, checking a holo display on the wall. 

“How fortuitous.” Vader said, what counted for a laugh wracking his chest piece. “Lieutenant! Tell the men to lock down any and all exits to this spire, and call in the local Imperial regiment. I want every floor of this spire swept for intruders, two Jedi with the possibility of two more.” 

“Yes sir.” The lieutenant said as his comrade kept to packing Vader’s purchases. “What will you be doing, sir?” 

“Hunting.” Vader said, igniting his saber and pushing past the lieutenant as he walked towards the door.

?????????

Something was wrong. Cal felt it in the Force as he and Merrin rode the maintenance elevator up to the 66th floor. There was an aberration in the flow of the Force around them, but he couldn’t quite recognize what it was through Merrin’s cloaking field. His grip tightened on Merrin’s hand as the elevator’s door opened and they looked out across a huge room, stuffed to the brim with display cases. As they stepped out into the room, Cal saw a trio of KX security droids a dozen yards or so ahead of them making a slow circuit through the displays. He also noted that the droids had heavy stunners and what looked to be tractor beam generators in place of hands. 

“Trazen must not want to risk damaging his collection.” Cal whispered as they took cover behind a display. “Good, makes for less trouble if we’re discovered. BD, can you get us a picture of how many patrols there are on this floor?” 

“Beep boop.” BD-1 softly chirped as he hopped down slice into a maintenance panel.

“While he’s doing that let’s get eyes on the key if we can.” Cal said, scanning the room. 

“According to this schematic it is next to something called a Tho yor replica.” Merrin said, checking the small schematic in her free hand. “Should be at the center of the room.” 

She pointed to a model of a pyramidal shaped ship with eight smaller displays circling it, with grav lifts keeping them off the ground. 

“Good eye.” Cal said, kissing her on the cheek. 

“Boop Beep.” BD-1 chirped. 

“What did he say?” Merrin asked, barely containing a giggle. 

“Two patrols of three droids each.” Cal explained. “Once that one passes we should have around five minutes before the other patrol makes it to this section. When they’re out of sight BD-1 will jam the-” 

A loud crackle from his communicator interrupted him and the lights in each display shut off with audible clicks. The patrol ahead of them stopped their slow circuit and began scanning the room before their gazes flicked to the elevator. For a moment, Cal thought they were looking at them and gripped Merrin’s hand tighter as he reached for his light saber. Only for the sound metal buckling to interrupt his reaching. 

Cal turned and saw a figure standing in the remains of the elevator door, retrofitted clone commando armor hugging tight to her body and a thick black cloak draped over her shoulders. She held an unlit light saber in one hand and some sort of long shield coated with octagonal crystal plates, each glowing with a soft orange light. The newcomer considered the room with silent contemplation, the hint of a visor barely visible beneath her hood. 

“Halt! You are trespassing in a restricted area.” One of the droids said raising its stunner. “Surrender for immediate questioning.” 

“How about you make me surrender, Clanka.” She said, a mad chuckle on her lips as she activated her light saber, flooding the room with crackling light the color of steel.

“Intruder has failed to comply, initiating suppression protocol.” The droid said, as all three fired stunner blasts at the women. 

She raised her shield and the crystal absorbed the blasts, pulsing dark orange as each ring collided with her shield. Blue black tractor beams lashed out from two of the droids while a third continued firing its stunner, the beams latching onto the shield and pulling the Jedi towards the droids. The Jedi let go of her shield and pivoted on one heel, opening her palm and grabbing one of the torn elevator doors, combining momentum and her control of the Force to send a chunk of the door spinning at the droids. 

“Halt! Do not resist any fur-” The droid was cut off as the door sliced through all three and slamming into a display of Tythonian dinner wear. 

“My patrol’s down.” The Jedi said, pulling down her hood and flipping up the visor on her half helmet. “Keep the jamming up until I have the key in hand. Over and out.” 

As Cal took a good look at her, he realized that this woman had to be Kella Blackfire. Despite having two eyes, she was the feminine mirror of Rowan’s features. His pretty features cast in predatory beauty on Kella’s face. This woman was a true Jedi knight from her aura alone, and based on how she’d taken down those droids she was one in training as well. 

With a flick of her wrist, Kella extinguished her light saber and then reached forward, drawing her shield back to her arm. It clicked into place and after Kella made sure it was secure, she began walking towards the displays. The quiet confidence of a trained warrior apparent with every step forward. 

“This is Kella, yes?” Merrin asked as they watched the armored Jedi stroll towards the displays. 

“Seems like it.” Cal replied. “I can see why Rowan’s afraid she might try to kill him.” 

“Yes, she enjoyed destroying those droids, didn’t she?” Merrin asked.

“I think she did.” Cal said, not knowing if he could really blame her for all the times KX droids had tried to wring his neck. “Should we go say hi, you think?” 

“You go say hi.” Merrin ordered. “BD-1 and I will stay behind. Out of light saber range.” 

“Weren’t you the one talking about saving me earlier?” Cal asked. 

“I meant what I said, I will save you.” Merrin said, patting his cheek. “If you need saving. Now go and talk to the Jedi.” 

Cal rolled his eyes and stood up to step outside of Merrin’s cloaking field. He walked out into the main pathway and raised his hands in the air. Kella stopped walking and ignited her light saber without turning around. 

“If it isn’t one of the boys of my dreams.” She said, turning around to level her dark green eyes at him. “Are you working for that scavenger who stole from me and then blew up my ship? Or are you just nosy?” 

“If we’re thinking of the same guy then I’m told he didn’t mean to do that.” Cal said. “At least not to you anyway.”

“Well now, that makes it all better.” Kella said, rolling her eyes. “Give me one reason I shouldn't run you through right here and now.” 

“I can give you three.” Cal said. “One, I’m a Jedi, my name is Cal Kestis and I was a padawan when the Purge happened. I’m on a mission that could change the balance of power in the galaxy, and as a side benefit, secure artifacts and records of the Jedi.”

“So you know how to use that light saber then?” She asked, gesturing to his saber. 

“Yes, reforged it on Illum before the Empire seized the planet.” Cal explained, taking a cautious step forward. 

“Let’s say I believe you.” Kella said, allowing Cal another step before gesturing for him to stop. “What’s your second reason?” 

“That scavenger is the other boy from your dreams.” Cal said. “His name is Rowan Blackfire, but you might know him as Kathis. He’s your twin-”

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Kella yelled stepping forward to bring the tip of her saber an inch from his throat. “Kathis Blackfire died in our childhood bed, holding my hand while he burned alive.” 

“Search your heart Kella.” Cal said, noting the slight tremor in her left as it gripped the saber. “You know I’m telling the truth. I swear on my life force, as one Jedi to another, that your brother is alive and he’s been searching for you. Now the Force is bringing you two together, no, bringing all of us together.”

“But he...he died.” She muttered, the warrior replaced by a lonely little girl for a moment before she found her resolve. “What’s your third reason I shouldn’t just end you now?” 

“Me.” Merrin said, materializing behind Kella with one of her new blades pressed against Kella’s throat. “Lower your weapon.” 

“And here I thought my girlfriend was exotic.” Kella said, deactivating her light saber and lowering it to her side. “You can withdraw the claws, I believe you. Well, I believe you enough not to take a hand off, yet.” 

“I thought Jedi were supposed to hate violence.” Merrin said, withdrawing her blade. 

“You’re not supposed to enjoy it.” Kella said. “Hating it is optional. So Cal Kestis and his mysterious paramour, I suppose you’re after the key as well.” 

“Yes, Rowan seems to believe it can open a door on Tython.” Cal said, watching her closely as she clipped her saber to her belt. “He believes the secret to mastering Hyperspace is behind it.” 

“Oh he does?” Kella said, a smile teasing at her lips. “Good to know my brother’s not a fool then, maybe the Force is bringing us together with a common goal.” 

“Yes, he wants to use it to subvert Imperial control.” Cal said, as he turned to the displays. “Thinks that we can use it to create safe spaces all over the galaxy, even beyond it.”

“He’ll be disappointed then.” Kella said, as she walked forward to a display containing a suspended pyramid made of smooth black crystal. “Because behind that door is a weapon so powerful that its builders sealed it away rather than use it against the Rakata, even as they were committing galactic genocide.” 

“What?” Cal asked. “It’s a weapon?” 

“Yes, a weapon that even at a fraction of its power nearly smothered the High Republic at the height of its power.” Kella said, flexing her fingers and pulling the pyramid through the glass to smack into her palm. “With it, I will destroy the Empire and the Sith. I’ll do what our forbears could not, and once and for all bring balance to the Force.” 

?????????

“Move! Move! Move!” Rowan yelled as he fell through himself through the closing blast door. 

He rolled across the cold concrete of the freight platform and came to a stop at Reyna and Trilla’s feet. Before he could catch his breath, a beeping thermal detonator came flying in through the opening to land on Rowan’s chest. Trilla grabbed at the detonator and managed to throw it threw the door just as it closed, muffling a loud bang and the screams of storm troopers. 

“Th...thank...thank you.” Rowan huffed. 

“Don’t mention it.” Trilla said, retreating to the edge of the platform to stare at the inert transport cart. 

“Why by the rings of Hellar is the entire fucking regiment coming down on our heads?!” Rowan grumbled as Reyna helped him to his feet. “Trazen’s has expensive shite, but this is a bit much.” 

They had retreated to the freight transport terminal after a platoon of Storm troopers battered down the doors. Trilla had been near catatonic throughout the chase and only the spire’s security going down randomly gave them the opportunity to run with Trilla hoisted onto Reyna’s shoulder. Rowan thanked the Force for whatever had shut down the security, and cursed himself for not thinking of trying it himself. 

“Vader.” Trilla said, clutching the stump of her arm. “They’re here because Vader is here. He ordered them to be deployed once their alarm was triggered.” 

“You mean the Emperor’s lap dog, Vader?” Rowan asked, kissing Reyna’s hand before going over to the platform’s control terminal. 

“I mean the most powerful Jedi killer alive!” Trilla insisted. “He’s not some two bit inquisitor or assassin, Vader will kill us all if he finds us. We need to get Cal and Merrin out of there now!”

“Once I slice into the freight system I can get that transport rig running and we can be on our way.” Rowan said, pushing his eye patch aside and plugging a cord into the slot where an iris should have been. “Besides, from what I hear we’ll hear the wheezy bastard coming.” 

“You can hear a hurricane coming, but it doesn’t stop it from tearing your house down, now does it?” Trilla said. 

“Ooh love, ye should write that one down.” Reyna said, as she slapped a bacta patch onto a burned bicep. “Perfect for yer lexicon.” 

“Sure thing, Songbird.” Rowan said, wingeing slightly as the mechanism in his false eye and the cybernetics where his optic nerve used to be activated. “I’ll put it on the list, maybe I’ll publish them one day and have a galactic best seller on my hands.” 

Rowan ignored her kissy face in response and activated the slicing suite in his eye. It took a moment to break the encryption, surprisingly old by Imperial standards, but when he did Rowan had access to the bare bones systems for the entire spire. Chewing his lip, Rowan uploaded one of his favorite toys into the source code, a hydra of digital nasties born from the fruit of the deadliest slicer dens in the galaxy. Only, his hydra was stopped in its tracks, not by the spire’s security system but by another slicing suite already hijacking the system. 

“So, you’re who I have to thank for shutting down security.” Rowan muttered as he sent a request through the system to activate the freight transport. 

**Request accepted** a command prop said **Lovely little bug by the way**

“The thick plottens.” Rowan said, disconnecting his eye from the terminal and turning to the others. “Alright, there’s someone else hitting the spire and they are much better at slicing than I am. Trilla, be a doll and get Cal or Merrin on the line, and tell them to move their asses.” 

Luckily for Trilla, a grate in the ceiling broke open and two forms fell through. Cal and Merrin rose to their feet, covered in what had to be years of dust and lent, as a third person dropped through the vent. Rowan froze as he got a good look at the newcomer, a young woman dressed in modified clone commando armor with dark green eyes and features the feminine mirror of his own. The world stopped as the two locked gazes, nearly twenty years of separation and subterfuge between them like a chasm. 

“Kella.” Rowan muttered.

“Kathis.” She whispered back. 

He reached forward, hand trembling, and held his breath as Kella removed her left glove, revealing a hand covered in very old burns. The twins stepped toward each other, their fingers meeting and without hesitation locking together in a vice grip. A connection, either through the Force or through blood, thrummed between them and Rowan could feel Kella’s mind as if it was an extension of his own. As if she was an extension of himself he’d simply forgotten. 

“I dreamt of you.” Rowan whispered. “Every night for twenty years, I dreamt of you.” 

“I thought you were a ghost haunting my dreams.” Kella said, reaching up with her free hand to trace the edges of his face. “They told me you died and all I was feeling was your residual presence in the Force. A coping mechanism of a mind too young to process grief.” 

“The Jedi lied about many things.” 

Rowan froze at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and his stomach dropped as he turned towards the voice. Standing there in the shadow of the tunnel’s maintenance walkway was a figure dressed in all black armor, radiating menace. Trilla raised her blaster and fired, only for the figure to raise a hand redirecting the bolt into the wall. Though Rowan couldn’t see the man’s face, he knew he was smiling at the fear on the young woman’s face. 

“Second sister, good to see your aim hasn’t suffered from your injury.” Vader said, stepping forward into the dim light of the platform. 

“Rowan, can we move?” Cal asked, igniting his saber and taking a guarded stance. 

“The transport needs another five minutes before it’s fully activated.” Rowan said, drawing his tonfa blasters from their hip holsters. 

“Five minutes?” Cal asked, staring at the monster standing before them. “Sounds doable.”

“Aye.” Reyna said, aiming her rifle at Vader’s chest. 

“Six on one makes for good odds.” Kella said, igniting her own saber. 

“Those odds are-” Vader began, igniting his saber filling the platform with hateful red light. “-acceptable.”


	5. Always two there are, no more no less.

Vader stared his opponents down. Children in rebellion practically wetting themselves as they stood not a hundred feet away. He could feel their fear in the Force, like a shark detecting the electrical firing of a nervous system, and Vader fought through the pain of his cybernetics to hone in on it. To focus his perception to the point that the material world fell away and all there was him and these children. All their was now was the fear radiating off them and the determination to stand and fight. 

Both tasted sweeter than Nabooan wine. 

The seconds ticked by and he watched them, Kestis and the Jedi in clone armor on either side of the makeshift formation. They would rush him, each darting to a respective side to try and flank him while the three in the middle peppered him with blaster fire. A solid strategy, one Vader himself would have used if he were in their shoes, but the strategy’s predictability outweighed its merit. 

That was the Jedi way after all. Vader thought to himself. 

Then his perception locked onto the nightsister standing behind the scavenger with the tonfas. Rather, his perception locked onto the empty space where the Nightsister had been. Without warning, green light bloomed behind him and a cold sharpness stabbed into his side through the gaps in his armor. The pain bloomed out across his body and Vader lashed out through the force, sending a shock wave of energy out like a detonated hand grenade. Another flash of green light bloomed from behind him and he barely had time to register that the blade was still stuck into his side before they were on him. 

Blades of crackling yellow and steel light came down on him from either side. Vader blocked the armored Jedi's strike with his saber and grabbed Kestis by the throat with his free hand before pivoting on one heel to slam him into armored Jedi. They bashed together like toys and Vader raised his fist, clenching it to rip a slab of the ceiling out bringing it down in front of him, blocking a volley of blaster and sonic projectile fire. With a grunt, he sent the slab flying at the shooters barely registering Sunduri slowing it with a herculean effort. 

Vader turned to the Jedi and plucked Kestis off the ground with the Force, and stabbed his saber down in the armored Jedi’s leg at the same time. Her scream rang through the air as he shifted his grip on Kestis, closing around the boy’s throat like a vice grip. Feeling it clamp around the soft flesh and watching his eyes bulge as his wind pipe closed only another burst of green light to bloom in front of him. The nightsister appeared in the space between Vader and Kestis, burying another blade in his arm and kicking off his chest to grab both Jedi, whisking them away in another burst of green light. 

He tried to pivot back towards the others before something beeping at the end of the knife exploded. Fire and hateful light filled his vision and Vader was sent flying back to slam into the wall, his life support systems screaming in protest as they tried to keep him alive. His lungs burning and muscles trembling, Vader’s vision cleared enough for him to see his prey loaded into the transport. The shooters having used the slab he’d thrown at them as a shield. 

“Clever.” He gurgled, raising his hand to restrain the transport before it could get away. 

“Not today monster!” The armored Jedi yelled, raising her hands to the ceiling. 

A wave passed trough the ceiling and with a deafening roar it came down on their heads. Vader raised a bubble of force around him, stopping the largest of the debris from crushing him. Through the falling debris he saw the transport blasting away through the freight tunnels. Watched as his prey slipped into the dark of the tunnels, and out of his grasp. 

For now.

??????

Greez was working to unstuck a particularly troublesome button on the Mantis’ coffee machine when the vessel shook slightly. He looked from the coffee machine to the bridge and wondered if he’d forgotten to switch the anti-gravity actuators to idle. Then a power surge passed through the ship, flickering the lights off and then back on after a few seconds. Another tremor passed through the ship and Greez almost jumped when the Mantis’ engines roared to life. 

“What the?” He asked, darting to the bridge. 

“Greez, the Cinnamon Wind’s engines are powering up and that’s forcing the Mantis’ to cycle.” Cere said from her seat at the comms terminal. “Something just engaged the Cinnamon Wind’s auto pilot. We’re lifting off.” 

“Heaping piles of wookie crap!” Greez yelled, hopping into his chair and opening activating the two ship’s nav computers. “The job must have gone sideways.” 

“Greez! Cere!” Cal’s voice cut through the comms. “We’re loaded into the-” 

The ship shook and the tell tale sound of heavy blaster fire hitting a shield shook through the bridge. 

“-Cinnamon Wind lift off now!”

Without hesitating, Greez slammed the controls and the two bonded ships blasted forward and up out of the space port. Tremors from air resistance and blaster fire ricocheting off the shields shook the ships, and as they climbed higher and higher Greez was pressed back into his seat. The G-forces pressing him into the cushions until he couldn’t tell where the after market Rancor leather stopped and he began. Then a half dozen blips appeared on his radar followed by a single blip larger than all the others combined. 

“As good a pilot as I am, folks.” Greez groaned, as heavy blaster fire battered the shields. “I don’t think I can shake the bogies on our tail.” 

“Greez!” Rowan’s voice came through the crackling speakers. “Remember when I said those gas canisters were empty.” 

“Yeah.” He said. 

“Well, they’re not empty.” Rowan said. “They’re housing seismic charges.” 

“What?!” Greez yelled. “There’s a dozen seismic charges strapped to my ship?!”

“I’m a fan of overkill, sue me!” Rowan groaned. “Just hit the release!” 

Unable to think of a witty reply, Greez did just that. A deafening screech shook him to his bones and with a lurch the Mantis and the Cinnamon wind were freed from one another as the rigging fell away. More importantly, the “gas canisters” fell with it and as Greez used the reduction in weight to blast the Mantis ahead. Narrowly avoiding the cascade of energy released by twenty four seismic charges going off all at once. Blue light over powered the natural sunlight outside the Mantis and the deafening shock wave rattled the ship like a storm surge smashing into a beach. Greez checked the radar as the blips on the radar went from nine blips, to five, to three, and finally to two. 

“I have to admit overkill feels like a million credits and a Ghirvizian telk roast right now.” Greez said. “Now how do we get through that planetary gate?” 

“What do you think the charges were for?” Rowan asked, grunting as Greez watched the Cinnamon Wind bank hard towards the gate. 

“What are you going to do?” Greez asked. 

“I’m gonna light the sky on fire.” Rowan said before the feed cut out. 

The Cinnamon Wind accelerated towards the gate, a massive cannon at its front glowing white hot as lightning coiled off it. Greez watched as the vessel roared toward the gate until it was only a mile or so away. Then a bolt of white lightning leapt through the air, coiling like a snake lunging towards prey, to slam into the gate and exploded in a super nova of white light. Shielding his eyes, Greez turned the Mantis as a wave of energy, like concentrated sunlight, bounced off the hull. When the glare faded away, Greez looked at where the gate had been, and found that a hole large enough for the Mantis to slip through. 

“See you...other side.” Rowan’s voice came through in patchy bursts as the Cinnamon Wind rocketed through the opening in the shield.

“Remind me not to cheat at cards when that guy’s playing.” Greez said to Cere as he engaged the drives to follow after the Cinnamon Wind. 

??????????? 

Kella hobbled out of the Cinnamon Wind’s comms room, the wound in her leg aching as she used a crutch to navigate the ship’s narrow hallways. It had been six hours since their escape from Solemnace, and the others had retreated to lick their wounds and recover from the fight with Vader. Not Kella though, she had developed a habit of not resting until all of her people were accounted for. A habit she’d developed during the clone wars, and one her master had encouraged, as a way to endear herself to the clones under their command. 

“Look where that got you, eh old girl?” She said, laughing bitterly. 

She hobbled down the hall, past the galley where the other Jedi, Cal, and his nightsister napped in comfortable chair. Past the infirmary where her sister in law, that was a term Kella didn’t think she would get used to, was patching up the one armed force user. Eventually, Kella hobbled her way to a small workshop tucked into a fold in the ship’s super structure. 

Sitting at a cramped workbench was her brother, the other half of her soul if Karrocki custom could be believed. He sat with his back to her, nimble fingers working at something on the bench as he hummed to himself quietly. Kella leaned against the door frame and watched him work until he grunted and raised what ever it was up to bang it on the table hard enough to make a thwack sound. Then it began to glow and a holographic image materialized in the air. 

“Hi Da! Hi Ma!” Two little girls with horns squealed in the hologram before even that simple message devolved into a high pitched string of madness. 

“Their names are Roweyna and Reywan.” Rowan said, turning around to look at Kella. “They’re your nieces and just turned two.” 

“They’re...they’re beautiful.” Kella said. “You must be proud.” 

“They’re why I do all that I do.” Rowan said, chuckling. 

“You know, it’s so odd knowing I have family beyond the Order.” Kella said as she leaned against the work bench. “My whole life, family was theoretical. I knew I came from somewhere of course, but as to memories of a mother or father? Nothing.”

“If it makes you feel any better I’m pretty sure Granny had our father shipped off to bake bread in the outer rim.” Rowan said, his tone only half joking. “Did your call make it through?” 

“Yes, my people made if off Solemnace during our little distraction.” Kella said. “Turns out detonating a dozen seismic charges at once is more than enough of a distraction. Be honest, did you know we’d survive firing that death trap of a cannon? Or that you’d be able to destroy the gate with it?” 

“The latter’s easy, when we were cycling through to enter the atmosphere I noticed that the ring’s outer supports were degraded by age.” Rowan explained, not without a note of pride in his tone. “A good blast was all it needed to pop off its hinges so to speak. As to the former, I figured the Force isn’t so anticlimactic as to bring the two of us together during a heist for the same artifact just to let me blow us all up with my own weapon.” 

“Fair enough.” Kella said. “Though that does remind me that you owe me a ship, and a Dornian centurion lizard.” 

“Saving your life doesn’t make us even?” Rowan asked. “I mean what’s a little property damage between siblings?” 

“If you recall, I had to clash blades with Darth Vader, the Emperor’s personal Jedi hunter, to buy you time for that little “grenade taped to a knife” trick.” Kella reminded him. “There’s no way we’re even yet, brother.” 

“I’m a little strapped for credits right now.” Rowan said. “You will not believe what seismic charges cost these days, but I can probably boost the power output of those kohlen crystals in your shield.” 

“Tried that once, it blew my master out of a window.” Kella said.

“Ah, probably misaligned the potentia coils.” Rowan muttered before looking up at her. “Your master, I’m assuming they’re-” 

“She was killed on the planet Ushima.” Kella said, her expression cooling as the memory played behind her eyes. “Her name was Magna Trofonni.”

“Magna Trofonni?” Rowan asked, running his tongue over the gap in his teeth. “The same Magna Trofonni who saved the Karro royal family from an assassination attempt around 17 years ago?”  
“The same.” Kella said, looking into her brother’s eye. “She’s the one who inducted me into the order after she found out I was Force sensitive.” 

“Ah, I always wondered about her.” Rowan said, venom dripping from every word. “How’d she die?” 

“Shot in the stomach by her lover as they strolled through a meadow.” Kella said, the bluntness in her voice almost as harsh as Rowan’s venom. “He was a republic navel officer, old family with lots and lots of connections to the senate and all that. Apparently one of those connections was to the grand chancellor himself, and to score a cushy post in the Imperial navy he decided to kill a woman who loved him as a show of loyalty.” 

“Well I feel like an asshole.” Rowan said, producing a bottle and two glasses from a drawer. “I don’t suppose that officer had a long career?” 

“No actually.” Kella said, accepting a freshly poured glass of something that smelled like fermented apples. “Last I heard he was rotting at the bottom of a river on Kashyyk after someone threw him off a bridge. I would have done it myself but running for your life has a habit of curtailing any revenge vendettas.” 

“Ah, that’s a bit of a shame.” Rowan said. “On Northtier revenge most often ends with someone getting buried in snow, but I’ve always felt that lacked the panache of drowning.” 

“To rivers then.” Kella said, raising her glass. 

“To rivers.” Rowan said, clinking his glass against hers. 

????????

Three days later…

Merrin sat in the Cinnamon Wind’s galley, with Kella across from her and Rowan standing at the end of the table watching and listening as they talked. The trio had met for breakfast and started up a conversation on their respective views on the Force when Rowan asked about the shattered sphere she carried. Three hours later, the trio had poured a thick layer of salt over the tabletop so they could draw simple representations of different aspects of their philosophies. 

“-and so, the Physical Force goes hand in hand with its complimentary aspect, the Living Force.” Kella explained, putting the finishing touches of what looked like a solar system drawn in the salt. “Both in turn connected to time and space through the Unifying Force which in kind is entwined with the Cosmic Force. Through these four spheres, the Force permeates all living things, from the heart of every star to the smallest single celled organism, and it is with these four spheres we contemplate both our use of the Force and our place within it.” 

“Fascinating.” Merrin said, her eyes focused on the drawing as her fingers stroked the shattered crystal sphere in her hands. “Before the Nightsisters and the book of shadows, there was a woman named Allya who brought to the daughters of Dathomir our magicks. Though my sisters followed a different book, there were mentions of such concepts buried beneath the darker lore of our people.” 

“Allya...” Kella and Rowan said at the same time, startling both. 

“You know of Allya?” Merrin asked “Her name echoes in my mind, but there is little I actually know of her beyond the legends.” 

“She was an exiled Jedi during the great peace of the Old Republic.” Kella explained. “She fell to the dark side and was expelled from the order for it, but after that the records at the temple don’t say much of what happened to her.” 

“Because she taught a band of exiles how to use the Force.” Rowan said, snapping his fingers. “Allya is a legendary figure not only for your people, but to everyone who doesn’t subscribe to either the Jedi or the Sith. Give me a second.” 

Rowan bounded out of the galley like a man possessed. 

“Allya was a Jedi?” Merrin asked. 

“Yes, I only remember the name because she’s one of the few Jedi listed in the archives to have fallen.” Kella said, raising an eyebrow as her brother skidded around a corner and out of sight. “As you can imagine, in the last few decades the Order thought it was best to suppress any information that even hinted at our inadequacy.” 

“What do you think?” Merrin asked, cocking an eyebrow in kind at the Jedi. “Do you think they were right in suppressing knowledge of Allya and others like her?” 

“Yes and no.” Kella said. “The Order wasn’t perfect by any means, but through their traditions the Jedi held sway in the galaxy for thousands of years. We kept the balance and the peace, stopped the Sith at every turn and only failed when the entire galaxy was turned against us by a misguided former Jedi. Suppression of those who fell may have stopped us from expecting it in our ranks, but the Jedi were ultimately on the side of balance.” 

“From what I have been told by Cal and the others, the Jedi misunderstood balance and believed themselves to be the ultimate authority on the Force.” Merrin said, thinking of Kella’s declaration in the Tython exhibit. “It sounds like hubris brought you low, and not betrayal.” 

“The Jedi were and are the ultimate warriors of the light, we brought hope and peace to the Republic.” Kella said, her face darkening. “Pride in our history and skill is not the same thing as hubris, Nightsister.” 

“Semantics.” Merrin said, stroking her sphere. “You claim to be the ultimate light, yes? But the Force is light, it is life incarnate as you said, drawing from it to do good does not make you the pinnacle but part of the balance. To think otherwise is hubris worthy of your Emperor. With that hubris comes the fall, skill and history can only delay it. Pride corrupted my sisters, blinded us to all but the pursuit of darkness, and it was pride which brought us our fall. I have learned the lesson only falling this low can teach, have you Jedi?”

Kella stared at Merrin for a long moment, and Merrin could feel the anger bubbling beneath her steely green eyes. Merrin’s grip tightened on the fractured sphere, summoning energies from its depths and readying herself for a fight. But Kella simply exhaled sharply and stood up to stomp out of the room, narrowly avoiding Rowan as he came back into the galley with a huge leather bound book in his arms. 

“What’s her problem?” Rowan asked as Kella stomped her way out of the room.

“We had a disagreement in opinion.” Merrin said. “What’s that?” 

“A third edition Book of Law, supposedly from the singing mountain tribe on Dathomir.” Rowan said, wiping salt away from the table top before putting the book down and patting it proudly. “I found it in the family vaults years ago, and fell in love with the illustrations. Absolutely filled with lore and spells, but the damn things written in an ancient dialect of Dathomirese. So it’s just been collecting dust on my shelf instead of doing any actual good.” 

“This was written by Allya?” Merrin asked, cracking open the old book and letting the smell of aged paper fill her nose. 

“Originally yes, before being added to and copied by some of her direct descendants.” Rowan said. “From what I’ve managed to gleam from it, the book contains a lot of early history for your people, as well as spells and rituals not, uh, modified by the Nightsisters. Think of this as payment for saving our asses down in those tunnels.” 

“Thank you, Rowan.” Merrin said, running her fingers down the script on the first page. 

She read the words printed on the yellow paper and felt as if the past was reaching out to her. It was a creed she knew, only not by memory, but by how the words echoed deep within her. A creed her people had once lived by before her ancestors stepped into the shadow, before they were twisted to accommodate the thirst for power and dominance. Before the darkness came to swallow Dathomir. 

“Daughters of Allya.” She said, her voice far away as she read the words: 

Learn these words and learn them well, for they are the foundations  
that will increase your strength and keep you safe from harm.  
Those who suffer emotion will never enjoy peace.  
Those who choose ignorance will never know their own greatness.  
Those who yield to passion will fail to dominate.  
Those who fear death will never achieve pure power.  
Never forget that your magic must always be used wisely.  
Never concede to evil, lest you be consumed by it. 

“This is who the Nightsisters once were.” Merrin said, letting the words of her forebears resonate in the air like a musical note. “We followed the Book of Shadows and our mothers shunned any other tome, I wonder how much that ignorance weakened us?” 

“Yes, the witches of Dathomir are a power to be reckoned with even the tribes in exile after the Nightsisters took over.” Rowan said, obviously delighted at her reverence. “Before the Nightsisters adopted their own “unique” interpretation of Allya’s teachings they followed this book like all of the other tribes. Your magicks aren’t based in the Darkness Merrin, they were born from the Light. Just like the Jedi.” 

“This is...a good gift Rowan.” Merrin said, looking up to smile at him. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Rowan said, returning her smile with a gap toothed grin of his own. “Knowledge good or bad should be shared with those who need it most in my opinion. You can use it better than I can so it’s only right that you carry it on with you. That said, if you want me to help fix that focus you’re fondling my workshop is always open.” 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to examine it?” Merrin asked. 

“I do just want to examine it to see what I can do with it, but that doesn’t mean fixing is a mutually exclusive goal.” Rowan said, raising his hands in a so what gesture. 

?????

Trazen, the self styled head curator of the Infinite Reliquary, shuffled through the sterile hall, sweat dripping down his clammy forehead. The Storm troopers escorting him said nothing as they walked down the hall ignoring his attempts at conversation, these weren't the dregs from his local regiment after all. These were Lord Vader’s personal troops, the honor guard specifically chosen by this nascent lord of the Sith.

“Stop here.” One ordered as they came to a stop before an armored door. “Go inside.” 

“Of...of...course.” Trazen stuttered as the trooper opened the door. 

He stepped into the room and was struck by the brutally cold temperature of the air. His augments creaked and the artificial plating shielding his back crackled as the cold air washed over him. Coupled with the cold was an oppressive aura from the room’s single occupant. Standing before a cluttered work bench, adjusting the mechanics of an artificial arm was Lord Vader clad in a thick black robe. 

“Trazen.” He said, his voice crackling from a partially damaged helmet. “I find that I’m in need of your services once again.” 

“Of course Lord Vader.” Trazen said, bowing low. “I have served the Sith my entire life, and I will serve you to the best of my ability.” 

“Good.” Vader said, putting the tool down and testing his grip. “Exhibit 63-AE of the Tython exhibit, tell me all that you know about it.” 

“Ah, the Voidus Exodendum.” Trazen said. “A piece of morphogenic kyberite carved into the shape of a pyramid, etched with traditional Je’daii script. It is nothing more than a bauble my lord, a key to a mythic artifact from a bygone era. The fact that it was on display at all is only because it was found within the remains of a Tho Yor on a moon in the Deep Core.” 

“Morphogenic kyberite?” Vader asked, opening his chest piece to reveal machinery. 

“Ah yes my lord, such a rare substance makes knowledge of it very sparse.” Trazen explained. “It is a rare type of Kyberite, even rarer than pure kyber so I am led to believe, that changes shape and electromagnetic qualities once acted upon by specific Force techniques it is attuned to. The Exodendum’s specific “opening” technique was never found, and as such was regulated to knick knack status.” 

“And if someone was able to “open” it?” Vader asked, replacing a power cell in his chest piece. 

“Ah, well most pieces carved of morphogenic kyberite were often used as keys or storage devices, requiring them to be opened before use.” Trazen said, watching the grisly maintenance with morbid attention. “We at first believed that the Exodendum’s purpose was unlocking the Tho Yor it was found in, but alas it’s structure did not match any of the, admittedly few, surviving mechanisms. From our partial translations, it was meant to be used to be used in conjunction with a “gate to the place between places” where a great tool of the Kwa, something called the Auger, waited. The drivel of ancient zealots if you ask me.” 

“Why, if this was just a paper weight, did two Jedi in hiding come out of the shadows to steal it without touching any of the far more valuable items in your collection?” Vader asked, closing his chest piece restoring his condition to almost presentable.

“I have…” Trazen began before a hologram appeared before them. 

“Yes Trazen.” Emperor Sheev Palpatine’s image said, sunken eyes considering him with sadistic amusement. “Tell us more about this tool of the Kwa.” 

????????

Cal sat in Rowan’s main workshop back at his base, watching Kella as she leaned against Rowan's workbench. Beside her, encased in blast resistant glass was the key, a pyramid of onyx that seemed to warp the Force around and within it. Her words in Trazen’s spire had haunted him for the last three days, and he had sworn Merrin to secrecy until he gotten more information from the other Jedi. To believe Kella, that key held the secrets to a hyperspace weapon and not the benevolent knowledge Rowan believed was hidden beyond the door. 

“Explain this weapon to me.” Cal said. “Rowan thinks it’s the secret to mastering hyperspace, but you think it’s some kind of weapon, why?” 

“It was a favorite topic for my master.” Kella explained. “Around two hundred years ago, the High Republic was brought low during a galaxy wide hyperspace outage during a massive colonization push. For more than a week, no ship or transmission could be sent through hyperspace what so ever. The official story was an exotic particle storm from the black hole at the center of the Galaxy, but in truth it was the result of a Jedi expeditionary force activating the weapon remotely through a Kwa outpost. Seeing the damage it caused, the council ordered the outpost destroyed and any mention of it to be scrubbed from the archives.”

“Then how do you or your master even know about it?” Cal asked. 

“Sometimes an absence is just as telling as it being in plain sight.” Kella said. “If what Rowan’s told me is true, he discovered it through mentions found in our family’s little collection of Force related materials. But my master looked into the legends of the Kwa and their infinity gates, eventually coming across the Tython compass Rowan stole from me. The markings on the compass told of the key and the gate it opens, confirming what our predecessors tried to erase.”

“And you think you should use a weapon that the Jedi of the High Republic thought too dangerous to use?” Cal asked. “Kella, if you’re right and this weapon can cut the entire Galaxy out of hyperspace then you’ll strand thousands, if not millions, of ships. Do you have any idea how many ships are moving through hyperspace at any given moment? How many ships are moving through dead space or brier patches of radiation? Yes, you would starve the Empire, but you’d also be causing unpredictable amounts of damage to the galaxy at large.” 

“It would buy us time, Cal.” Kella said. “I’m not planning to turn it off for years on end, just long enough to send the structure of the Empire itself to weaken. To show people that these bastards are not all knowing and all powerful, and that they can be beaten. A few months without hyperspace and the Empire will take years to reestablish power, if it can pull itself back from the brink at all, and in that time we can begin to rebuild our order, Cal. My master believed that the weapon would allow specifically attuned ships to enter hyperspace even after it was fired, and with those ships we can gather Force sensitives together and bring about a new age of Jedi.” 

“You could also allow any rebels free reign of Hyperspace.” Cal said, thinking over the idea before his mind again thought of planets starving and ships trapped in dead space. “But it could still kill millions, and at the very least, the chaos a weapon like this would cause isn’t worth firing it in the first place. Rebuilding the Jedi order on a pile of corpses is as bad a foundation to build on as a Sith temple.” 

“What then would you have me do?” Kella asked. “We have to resist the Empire, and putting around the galaxy hiding like rats won’t help us. I agree that the potential for damage is high, but think of how many lives were lost in the war with the separatists? How many clones, civilians, and traitors to the republic were ground to dust by the great war machine? The Jedi had no problem with that endeavor did we?” 

“That was different.” Cal said. 

“Because it was war?” Kella asked, stepping forward to look him in the eye. “I sense doubt in you Cal, doubts of the order and your place in this galaxy. The Jedi were never meant to be soldiers, but the war made us both into children of war, didn’t it? What do you think our venerated comrades like Anakin Skywalker or Plo Koon would do in our place, hm? Our masters are dead Cal, we are all that remains of the Jedi, and it is our duty to do exactly what they raised us to be. Warriors of the light who will snuff out the darkness in their stead.”

Cal stared at her for a long moment, her words hanging in the air. In her eyes he saw himself, a child raised by the Jedi and all the battles, both internal and external, that upbringing spawned. She was an orphan thrown into a world that wanted nothing more than to kill her for the simple crime of being a Jedi. This young woman had seen the horrors of war and for her service was forced into hiding. He understood her zeal, for a chance to strike back at the evil that rewrote her reality and restore the order that raised her, she would watch the galaxy burn. 

“You’re wrong.” Someone said before Cal could reply. 

They looked over and saw Rowan standing at the entrance to the workshop carrying a daughter in each arm. Both were sound asleep with one drooling on Rowan’s arm as he gently placed them on a small cot in the corner of the room. He removed a lock of hair from one twin’s face before turning around to consider them. 

“Tervein and torvein.” Rowan said after a moment. 

“What are you talking about?” Kella asked. 

“They’re the Kwa words for tool and weapon respectively.” Rowan said. “Most people confuse the two considering the language hasn’t been spoken for over thirty millennia. Your master was wrong Kella, the tool behind the door is so much more than a weapon. It’s the literal heart of the Kwa’s hyperspace network, a repository of knowledge and equipment that can unlock the true potential of hyperspace.” 

“Then why did the Kwa allow the Rakata to wipe them out if they had such mastery, hm?” Kella asked. 

“Because you’re not completely wrong.” Rowan explained, pulling out an old note book and withdrew a datastick from it. “I’ve been obsessed with the old stories, the tales of empires and peoples dead long before the Republic was a gleam in a bureaucrats eye. My mothers would lull me to sleep with tales of peoples who bonded the mysticism of the Force with pure scientific ingenuity. But the Kwa were always my favorite, what little kid wouldn’t get a kick out of magic lizards uplifting species all across the galaxy?” 

He inserted the data stick and summoned a holographic schematic of reptilian creature clothed in a flowing robe. It spoke to them in a strange tongue that tickled Cal somewhere behind his frontal lobe. Speaking for about three minutes before stuttering and starting again in a loop. 

“This was originally stored in a holocron our five times great grandfather bought off a rogue Jedi, Kella.” Rowan explained. “He spent most of his life translating this record. It details the existence of something they called the Auger. It wasn’t a weapon but a tool that they used to shape hyperspace itself, and yes it could close off hyperspace but it could also create new hyperspace lanes. The Kwa left it locked on Tython because if it fell into the hands of the Rakata it would become a weapon, one that would have ripped the galaxy to pieces.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell us any of this?” Cal asked. 

“I did.” Rowan said, rolling his eyes. “I thought “Don’t fuck around with it or you might rip the galaxy in two” was implied.” 

?????????

Somewhere in the darkness of the unknown regions...

Nestled in the shadow of a gas giant was an automated ship yard that could, at full capacity, produce half a dozen star destroyers at once. Yet despite that ability to multi task, the ship yard’s full attentions were focused on a single massive project, a star destroyer so massive that it dwarfed every other ship in the Imperial navy. Even as a skeletal frame of what it would be, the ship would strike fear into any living being that laid eyes upon it. Especially the little boy hidden away at its heart. 

He could not remember what his name was. His master, at least that’s what the man in the black armor had said to call him, had taken it from him and replaced it with another. The boy couldn’t remember anything or anyone before waking up in this strange place, but that didn’t matter now. Now was the time for “training”. 

The boy ran down the hall, his blade glowing in his hand lighting the way as he darted down the hall. He heard the clanking of the droid’s feet far behind him, and almost cried out at the sound. Instead, the boy bit his lip and swallowed the cry, as he rounded a corner into a storage room. Otherwise known as a dead end. 

“Come now Master.” The droid’s voice tickled the boy’s ears. “It is time for our sparring session. We do not want to disappoint your Master, now do we?” 

The droid who both hunted and looked after him stood in the doorway. Though this droid was nothing like the ones in the boy’s fractured memory, because this droid had a human skull floating a fluid filled sphere for a head. Its body was lanky and covered in dozens of small projectors that glowed dully in the shade of the entryway. Two bright yellow eyes watched him from within the expressionless skull, lit with an oddly cold humor. 

“I...I...I don’t want to fight today, Proxy.” He stammered, extinguishing his blade. “I’m tired.” 

“As per your Master’s directives exhaustion is not a valid excuse for skipping training.” Proxy said, producing two blaster from his hips as his form changed to that of a man armored in shining metal. “But, to accommodate your fatigue I will choose my worst combat module for your training today. Jango Fett should provide you with a riveting training exercise while giving me a decent chance at fulfilling my prime directive.” 

“Plea...please….please Proxy.” The boy begged as the droid aimed a pistol at him. 

“Raise your weapon if you do not wish to be peppered with blaster fire, Master.” Proxy said, almost pulling the trigger when a chime emitted from his chest. “Hold on, I am receiving a transmission from your Master, Master.” 

Proxy lowered his weapon and his formed shifted once again, this time to another armored form clad in black. Without thinking, the boy fell to his knees and bit his lip to stop the tears from coming. This was his Master, the man who gave him his name and had begun teaching him the ways of the Force. He would no tolerate crying. 

“Raise your head, apprentice.” The deep voice boomed. 

“Yes Master.” The boy said, raising his head to look into his master’s cold black mask.

“Soon my apprentice, I will have need of you.” Master said. “You must redouble your efforts in training before we next meet. I expect you to last at least a minute with me or you will be thrown into the black parts of the ship with only Proxy’s most terrifying forms to keep you company.” 

“Yes Master.” The boy said, biting his lip so hard he could taste blood. “I understand.” 

“Good.” Master said. “Our great work is almost at hand my apprentice, the Force has seen fit to grant us an opportunity to right the scales and bring low our enemy. Soon you will take your place as my true apprentice, and fulfill the rule of two by my side as I take my master's mantle. Ready yourself boy, for this task I aim to hone you into a weapon more powerful than any Sith or Jedi. Do you understand me Starkiller?” 

“Yes Master Vader.” The boy lied. “I do.”


	6. Preparations

Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the flat planes stretching out for miles in all directions around Cal as he sheltered beneath the tin roof. He stood at the height of a lone hill and watched the wind whip the brush as the storm rolled in around them. This planet reminded him of Bracca in many ways, he used to spend whole nights watching storms break against scuttled ships with Prauf. Cal could almost taste the chemshine and smell the industrial grease coating everything. 

“Look at me now Prauf.” Cal said to the stormy night. “You’d love a sight like this.” 

“Who’s Prauf?” Rowan asked. 

Cal turned around to look at him. Rowan was sitting on a pallet loaded with glass containers of organs, tissue, and something Rowan called Synth-hybrids. As if that sight wasn’t odd enough, Rowan was busy knitting a scarf out of a bundle of yarn as they waited for their contacts. 

“Prauf was a friend of mine.” Cal explained. “Helped me out just after the Purge and he’s the whole reason I survived long enough to do any good.” 

“Sounds like a good friend to have then.” Rowan said, his tone reverent to the grief in Cal’s. “Had a few of those myself, but never quite enough of them.” 

“On that I can agree.” Cal said, chuckling. “Are you knitting?” 

“Yes.” Rowan said. 

“Why?” Cal asked.

“Because it’s fun and we don’t know if it’s winter on the section of Tython we’re going to, so I’m knitting scarves for everyone.” Rowan explained. “Can’t have my favorite ginger Jedi getting a cold, now can I?” 

“Right.” Cal said. “How long until your buyer gets here?” 

“She should be around soon.” Rowan said. “These lot are a bit more cloak and dagger than I’m sure you’re used to.” 

“Mercenaries or crime syndicate?” Cal asked. 

“Neither actually.” Rowan said, looking at Cal while he effortlessly looped yarn together. “If I had to guess they’re some kind of freedom fighters. Cloud riders they call themselves.” 

“Oh, well at least I’m not privy to selling organs to criminals.” Cal said, rolling his eyes. “And tell me again, why are we meeting your buyers on the same planet we’re picking up your sisters people?” 

“I need credits and I need to pick up my sister’s friends.” Rowan said. “Might as well do both, plus I like having a heavily armed group of freedom fighters who owe me a favor nearby. Settles my stomach.” 

“And why isn’t Kella here?” Cal asked.

“She’s getting her cabin ready.” Rowan said, rolling his eyes. “Commandeered my best bottle of skizian ice brandy, all of my candles, and the chocolates I stashed away. All because she’s been away from her girlfriend for a few weeks. Some people, I swear.” 

“Didn’t you spend most of the trip back from Solemnance sitting in your wife’s lap?” Cal asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“That’s different.” Rowan insisted. 

“Sure it is.” Cal said, turning back to watch the storm.

As he watched the first heavy drops of rain begin to fall figures appeared in the gloom. Armored sentinels barely visible against the plain grass as it whipped in the wind. Cal looked to his left and then to his right, noting that the figures in the gloom had formed a perimeter around the lean to they were sheltering in. The silhouettes of long barrel blasters standing out as the glare of lightning reflected off them. 

“We’ve got company.” Cal said, stepping back. 

“Since we’re not dead yet I’m going to assume they’re my buyers.” Rowan said, putting his knitting aside and standing up. 

“Astute as always Rowan.” A figure said, stepping from the shadows beyond the lean to. 

Cal looked to the figure. She was an older woman with light brown skin and russet colored hair, her sturdy frame encased in custom armor. As she stepped into the light, Cal noticed that she was unarmed save for a long dagger strapped to one hip. 

“Ensy!” Rowan said, clapping his hands and bowing to the woman. “How have you been you beautiful marauder you? How’s Enfy?” 

“I’m doing well, we hit a Crimson Dawn smuggling caravan last week, burned through a year’s supply of dust.” Ensy said, playfully slapping Rowan’s forehead. “And don’t you bow to me you little shit. Enfy’s doing fine, I have her running a small raid on a few safe houses while I’m out dealing with you.” 

“She still hasn’t forgiven me has she?” Rowan asked. “Honestly, if I had any idea that the voice box would make her voice sound that high I would have never sold it to her.” 

“Oh I’m sure.” Ensy said, rolling her eyes before she locked her gaze on Cal. “And who is this? Judging by the hair, I’d say he’s a relative of Reyna but he’s a bit on the short side.” 

“Cal Kestis.” Cal said, offering his hand. “I’m working with Rowan on a job and decided to tag along.”

“Ensy Nest, I’ve been working with Rowan since before he could reliably use a toilet on his own.” Ensy said. “Don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s some kind of master criminal.” 

“This is why I should stop doing buisness with mother’s friends.” Rowan grumbled as he checked the organs.  
“Oh, you know Valla?” Cal asked. 

“Valla? Oh you mean his biological mother.” Ensy said. “No, I’ve been friends with Verona since I bought my first blaster from her years ago. Rowan, you really should specify which mother you’re talking about, might confuse your new friend here which of the three you’re talking about.” 

“Yeah yeah.” Rowan said, turning around. “I’ll take my payment and you can take both your purchase and snippy comments with you on your way.” 

“As long as I get my augments my silver tongue will go unused.” She said, patting Rowan on the head and handing him a credit chit. “Your payment courtesy of Crimson Dawn’s private account on Monarch.” 

“Robbing banks now?” Rowan asked as he checked the balance. 

“When Crimson Dawn is laundering money through them, yes we are.” Ensy said, before cocking her head to their left. 

Cal followed her gaze and caught sight of a small transport craft cutting through the stormy sky towards them. 

“More friends of yours?” Ensy asked, her fingers contorting into a signal to her men. 

“Considering they haven’t fired on us yet, I’d suppose so.” Rowan said, stepping aside as armor clad men appeared to haul the pallet away. “Stay safe out there Ensy.’ 

“You too.” She said, patting him on the shoulder and nodding to Rowan. “I need to get back to my men, but send Verona my love.” 

“Oh I will.” Rowan said, rolling his eyes. 

With another nod to Cal, Ensy slipped into the night with her men. They turned their attention back to the ship as it landed. Once it was settled, the ship’s hatch opened and two figures hopped out before sprinting at the lean to. Cal and Rowan stepped back and made for their weapons when the ship exploded into a burst of white flame. A shock wave expanded outward and Cal stuck his palm forward pushing against the blast with the Force, just barely managing to keep it from knocking them both off their feet. 

“I...” Rowan huffed, as he blinked rapidly. “I have got to learn how to do that.” 

“It’s not something you just pick up.” Cal said, watching the pair from the ship slowly stand up at the foot of the hill. “What caused that explosion?” 

“If I had to guess, they overloaded a Duo-lithium core.” Rowan said. “Kella did say she told them to dispose of their ship, but I expected them to do it after-” 

Rowan was interrupted by someone very short dashing up the hill to slam into him. For a moment, Cal thought the figure was trying to strangle him, but as he watched Rowan flounder on the ground he realized that they were trying to hug him. The figure was a short Togruta woman, with her montrails arranged behind her head like slicked back hair and her plump form wrapped in reinforced traveling clothes.

“Kella wasn’t lying!” The Togruta chirped as Rowan tried to pry her off him. “You look just like her.” 

“Yes, twins often resemble the other!” Rowan said, rolling onto his side and wedging the Togruta off him with a leg. 

“Bola, we’ve discussed this.” Another woman, a tall skinny woman with dark blue skin and deep red eyes, said. “As affectionate as you are, most sane members of society are not.” 

“Oh Roella let me have my fun.” Bola said, popping up to her feet and blowing Rowan a kiss before turning to Cal. “And you must be the ginger Jedi himself.” 

“Pleasure to meet you both. “Cal said, suppressing a laugh. “Cal Kestis, I am indeed the ginger Jedi.” 

“I am Bola Pharles.” Bola said, whipping her hand in a flourish through the air before gesturing to the blue skinned woman. “This lovely slice of azure is Zithro’ella’nooroun, but you can just call her Roella if you don’t want to tie your tongue with every syllable.” 

“It’s an honor.” Roella said, offering them a smile that held more mischief than warmth. 

“Now, where is my immovable slab of woman?” Bola asked, throwing her arms over Rowan’s shoulders as he stood up. 

“On the Cinnamon Wind, my ship.” Rowan said, cringing at the woman’s hug. 

“Oh of course, she’s hard at work training isn’t she?” Bola asked, fluttering her long eyelashes at him. “Working that body of hers into exhaustion, forging every muscle into a weapon against the evil of the Empire.” 

“I’m pretty sure she’s picking through my music selection at the moment.” Rowan grumbled, trying in vain to shake the woman off. “Searching for the perfect reunion track if I heard her right.” 

“Oh that silly romantic.” Bola said, tapping Rowan on the nose before twirling away from. “Then let’s be off! I want to be in her arms before my heart gives out from the pain of our separation.” 

With that, the Togruta woman bounced off towards the silhouette of the Cinnamon Wind partially hidden in the hills. 

“Excuse her.” Roella said. “She comes from a very...passionate family.” 

“So do I, but you don’t see me throwing myself onto strangers.” Rowan said, eyebrow raised as he watched the woman bounce off towards the ship. 

??????

She savored the feel of the burning air as she walked through the ash soaked ground. The Ninth Sister could feel the heat of the massive lava flows hundred of feet below her, and savored how it seeped into her muscles. Inundating her flesh with warmth, fighting back the deep cold spreading across every nerve as the metal twisted with her muscles and bones. Even here, on a planet soaked in the most potent energies of the dark side, she could feel a slight balance between her sense of self and the alien thing feeding her with cold energy. 

“Ninth Sister.” The commander of her purge troopers said as he appeared from their craft. “Lord Vader has approved your entry into his...castle, ma’am.” 

“About time.” She growled as she turned towards the soaring tower. 

It was like gazing at a mountain peak, majesty and raw natural power combining into a sliver of obsidian that rose from the planet’s scorched ground like a blade. If Mustafar was a natural source of dark side energy then this castle was a conduit cutting directly into the planet’s black core. By simply existing, the tower dominated and channeled the planet’s chaotic energies into itself to be wielded by Lord Vader. Indeed, the tower itself had the aura of the Sith lord himself, and as she began the long walk towards it she could feel his perception on her. 

Vader’s presence was so oppressive and unrestrained that stepping into the castle itself was like stepping into the eye of a storm. The Ninth Sister withstood it easily, the cold metal spreading through her nervous system gorged itself on this energy as it did hers, but it almost incapacitated the two Purge troopers accompanying her. Thankfully for them both, the troopers steeled their resolve and didn’t drop the armored case they were carrying. If its contents was so much as scuffed, she had no doubt that they would all be meeting the famous lava flows of Mustafar personally.

Eventually they navigated the labyrinthine tunnels and found themselves in a chamber at the heart of the castle. There, bathed in the dull red light of a massive doorway carved out of pure obsidian stood Lord Vader, the air around him distorting as he channeled red tongues of energy coiling off the stone. At the center of the door stood a bacta tank and a small army of advanced, albeit small, medical droids picking over segments of old armors and cutting edge prosthetics. Runes and geometric lines covered every spare inch of the room and the Ninth Sister noticed that some even seemed to move, as if the segment of wall or floor was designed to rotate. 

She suppressed the urge to wince as the metal spreading up her arm began to push out of the skin like reddish black scales, fraying the nerves with joyous ease. Every cell throbbing as cold dark side energies flooded into them, fattening them up for the metal to soon consume. Biting her lip until it bled, the Ninth Sister straightened her back and banished the thought, asserting her control over the pain. 

You are not so weak that a bit of alien metal will kill you. She mentally to her self. You are destined to usher in a thousand year empire, not to die a wounded beast.

“Ninth Sister.” Vader said, lowering his hand and letting the coiling energies retreat back into the stone. “I sense discomfort, I would hate to think of my fortress as...less than accommodating to guests.” 

“I am fine Lord Vader.” The Ninth Sister said, savoring the taste of blood as she saluted him. “We have arrived with the object from Parnassos, as you ordered, sir.” 

“Ah yes, good work inquisitor.” Vader said. “Is it intact?” 

“Mostly my lord.” The Ninth Sister said. “It appears that the kyber crystal powering it was destroyed along with some of the finer controls, but the mechanism for contacting the greater device seems to be intact.” 

“Good, if power is all that is required then my plans shall go forward on schedule.” Vader said turning away to once again gaze at the bacta tank. “Tell your men to set the device in the notch by the stair way and join me, Ninth Sister.” 

“Yes Lord Vader.” The Ninth Sister said, suppressing the strong urge to flee as she gestured to her troopers. “Do as Lord Vader commands.” 

The troopers went to work and she stepped forward, wading into dark side energies so thick she may as well have been walking through dense fog. Every step making it harder to breathe and feeding the metal assimilating her flesh, drowning her in darkness. After what seemed like an eternity she joined Vader at his side, directly in front of the modified bacta tank. 

“Tell me Ninth Sister.” Vader said, as he handled an ancient helmet in one hand. “Do you consider the mysteries of the Force often?” 

“What is there to consider, Lord Vader?” The Ninth Sister. “The Force is a tool, a weapon to be dominated so that the Sith can dominate the universe. As is your right.” 

“A lack curiosity betrays a lack of adaptability.” Vader said, placing the helmet on a stand so a droid could begin coating it in crystalline paint. “Even if the Sith way is to dominate the Force, is it not prudent to contemplate the mysteries of the tool we so liberally use? Take this helmet for example, it once belonged to a man who despite it all turned from the light, then to the dark, and then...something beyond either. Beyond even that, the Force responds to intent more than morality, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“I’m afraid I’m not following.” The Ninth sister said. 

“Take the casting of lightning for example.” Vader said, tracing a set of baskar pauldrons that looked older than the obsidian the castle was built out of. “Jedi and those on the light have access to the same energy as we do, yet in all the history of the Jedi do you recall anyone of them using lightning? Lightning is a natural phenomenon, so why is that only we “unnatural” Force users make use of it?” 

“I don’t know.” The Ninth Sister said, panic and confusion throbbing through her as she listened. 

“Did you know a Jedi by the name of Qui-Gon Jinn?” Vader asked. 

“I never worked with him when I was a Jedi, no.” She said. “I did know that he was something of a heretic to the old guard of the Jedi.” 

“Yes, he was.” Vader agreed. “I have been thinking of him recently, even dug up some of his writings recovered from the temple. Sometimes, I wonder what today would look like if he hadn’t been slain by Darth Maul. Just as I wonder what it would be like if there was a Sith who asked questions in the same vein as Qui-Gon Jinn. Don’t you ever have questions, Ninth Sister? Doubts about our venerable master’s plans and wisdom?” 

“N...no...no.” The Ninth Sister sputtered. “I am loyal to the Emperor and to the Sith.” 

Vader looked at her then, the black eyes of his mask staring into her with the intensity of a blaster bolt. She saw past the blackness, to the pain and unending rage of the soul beneath the mask. The Force shuddered between them and she felt Vader’s mind invade not just her own mind, but her body as well. All around her, the runes and lines lit with red energy and before she could move tendrils of power sliced into her flesh. Ripping through the skin and muscle all the way to the bone and further down until they were pulling at her very essence. They coiled tighter and tighter, deeper than she thought possible to suckle at her very soul, warping flesh and alien metal as they gorged on her very being. 

“Loyalty comes with a price, Ninth Sister.” Vader said, raising his open palm to rest an inch from her face. “No, I will offer you the kindness of using your true name, Masana Tide. I thank you for your sacrifice, as paltry as it is.” 

He closed his fist and Masana, for indeed she was Masana Tide again, screamed as the hungry energies ripped her apart down to the very atoms. Her last perceptions were filled with the release of energy into a great sea of coiling power beyond the strange doorway and the answering call as a tidal wave of power answered her erasure. With a sigh of relief, both she and the metal that had been slowly assimilating her ceased to be. Each replaced down to the smallest subatomic particle by the rawest and most pure form of the Force itself. Energy that Vader channeled through himself, into the castle, and drew into himself again. 

With a scream, his body was inundated with unimaginable power. A fragment of what he planned to channel soon enough, but far more than he had anticipated. The energy, neither of the dark or the light, filled every atom with thrumming power. For the first time in years, his connection to the Force was restored then amplified as he reached out across his castle, now an extension of his will, to dominate the massive energies stored within its foundation. Wielding them like a youngling would a training saber. 

“Yes!” He yelled into the force itself, a gateway slowly closing as the last of his “catalyst” burned away. 

His augments sparked and sputtered as the gate closed and when it was done Vader fell to his knees. Pain sizzled on every nerve and he suspected that almost all of his augments were barely functioning, but none of that mattered as he felt his new power nestled in his center. Once again, Darth Vader could reach out to the Force as he once had as Anakin Skywalker, and now, he had the wisdom to wield the power correctly. 

Coughing, he stood and stared at the remains of the Purge Troopers arrayed around a crystalline pillar. With a flick of his wrist he sent the remains flying into a corner, and approached the pillar. The troopers had managed to connect it to the castle’s power systems, and it lit up as he approached. He placed a hand on the strange controls and beneath his mask, smiled.

“The lure is set.” He croaked as the pillar shuddered at his touch. “Now, to inform the prey.” 

????????

Trilla stepped out of the Mantis onto the docking platform, a thermos in one hand and a small pack of food in the other. She walked to an isolated corner of the platform where abandoned loaders formed a small alcove with a view of the ice fields Rowan’s home base was hidden in. It had become a regular spot for her to eat and stare into the void as she contemplated the state of her life. Today was no different, save for the intruder in her little space. It was Merrin, because of course it was. The Nightsister had been glued to her old book ever since Rowan had given it to her. 

“Hello Merrin.” Trilla said, stepping over the Nightsister to take a seat in the small alcove. “How are you?” 

“Fine.” She said, eyes still glued to a page filled to the margins with finely scrawled lettering. “How are Greez and Cere doing?” 

“Fine, Greez is perturbed by Rowan sniffing around the Mantis’ engines for whatever reason and Cere...” Trilla trailed off as she thought of her former master. “...she’s taken to meditating at all hours to try and reconnect to the Force. Shed all the baggage and just commune with the Force like Cal did.” 

“I imagine that is a trying process, yes?” Merrin asked looking up from her book. 

“Trying is putting it lightly.” Trilla said, leaning back against a power loader. “I’ve had difficulties myself, reaching for the Force and resisting the urge to dominate rather than channel it is difficult on a good day. I can’t imagine what it’s like for Cere who cut herself off from the Force completely only to be overwhelmed by anger.” 

“Should we be worried?” Merrin asked. 

“You trust my answer?” Trilla asked, raising an eyebrow at the Nightsister. 

“Yes, you fought alongside us against this Vader and I don’t believe you will harm Cal or I.” Merrin said, smiling slightly as she looked Trilla in the eye. “You have lost much, from your arm to your path through life, but at the end of it all here you are. With us. That means something.” 

“Cal’s optimism is rubbing off on you.” Trilla said, unable to stop the smile from reaching her lips. “I don’t think we should worry about Cere, she has been tempted by the darkness to be sure, but it won’t consume her. I owe it to her to promise that at least.” 

“A promise-” Merrin began before her back arched and she grabbed her head. 

“Merrin what’s-” Trilla tried to say before a wave of vertigo passed through her. 

All at once, it seemed that the universe seemed to shift on its axis and Trilla fell to the floor clutching her head. The station spun in her vision and Trilla felt her stomach flip over and over as the wave moved through her. Every sensation knocked out of alignment as whatever disturbance in the Force was causing this acted upon the universe. Then, just as it had come, the wave dissipated and Trilla’s senses returned to normal and she managed the strength to stand. 

“Merr...Merrin.” She huffed. “Merrin, are you alright?” 

“I...” Merrin groaned as she rolled onto her back. “I am...okay.” 

Somewhere in the distance, children were crying and an alarm was going off. Trilla drug herself over to help Merrin up, and together they made their way out of the alcove to find Cal sprawled out on the docking platform’s floor. Blood leaking from a gash on the side of his head. 

“Cal!” Merrin said, jumping forward in a flash of green light to crouch at his side. 

“Get him to the infirmary, I’ll check on the others.” Trilla ordered. 

Merrin looked up at her and with a nod, disappeared with Cal in a burst of green light.

“Cere!” Trilla yelled at the still open entry hatch to the Mantis. “Greez!” 

“Trilla!” Greez yelled as he hauled an unconscious Cere out of the Mantis. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Trilla said, stumbling against an empty crate. “Is Cere injured?” 

“No, one minute she was sitting at the kitchen table eating and the next she’s unconscious in her sandwich.” Greez explained as he laid Cere down and stared to fan her face. 

“Something...disrupted the Force, Greez.” Trilla said. “Something reached into the Force itself and struck it like a tuning fork. We just got caught in the shock wave.” 

“What in the name of all that is good could do that?!” Greez said. 

“No idea.” Trilla said, using him to hoist herself back onto her feet. “Take Cere to the infirmary, I’ll go and check on the others.” 

Greez nodded and with surprising strength, carried Cere off towards the infirmary. Trilla made sure he made it around the bend before heading towards the living section of the station. As she walked some of her strength returned and she managed the walk in less than ten minutes. When she arrived, Trilla found Rowan sprawled on a chair, both of his daughters in his arms cry-hiccuping and clutching his shirt. 

“Trilla...” Rowan said, gently rocking his daughters. “What...” 

“I don’t know what happened.” Trilla said, cutting him off. “Where’s your...” 

“She’s heading to the infirmary while we’re regrouping here.” Rowan said. “I can’t walk just yet and the girls are just now calming down.” 

“The key.” Kella huffed, pushing through the doorway to Rowan’s workshop with the key in her hands. “It reacted to...whatever that was.” 

She stumbled forward and held up the key, now a split open pentagon instead of a sleek pyramid with its rune etched interior now full visible. No, it wasn’t just the interior that was visible but a glowing set string of glyphs floating at its center. A string of glyphs that after a moment changed at one end. 

“Oh fuck.” Rowan cursed despite the girls in his arms. 

“Tell me that isn’t what I think it is.” Trilla said.

“It’s a countdown.” Rowan said, proving Trilla’s thoughts true. “The key’s counting down to something.” 

????

Starkiller sat in the chair, strapped to it more like, but he didn’t mind. The chair was comfortable compared to the solid metal furniture he was used to, and besides Proxy told him today they wouldn’t have to duel. Even if the restraints were a little too tight and the strange helmet strapped to his head itched, he wouldn’t have to fight for his life like usual. If there was one thing Starkiller could appreciate, it was the little moments of reprieve his strange life sometimes offered up to him. 

“Alright Master.” Proxy said, stepping into the infirmary carrying a huge black box. “We’ll be beginning in a moment. You did void your bladder before going into the chair correct?” 

“Yes Proxy.” Starkiller said, nodding as the droid plugged the memory drive into the machinery linked to the chair. “I voided and took the pills and drank the medicine you gave me.” 

“Good job, Master.” Proxy said, clapping his metal hands together. “Just for that I will prepare an extra slice of protein loaf for your dinner tonight.” 

“Thank you Proxy.” Starkiller said, happily fantasizing the extra slice when a question entered his mind. “Proxy, why did Lord Vader order you to use this machine on me?” 

“He did not divulge his reasoning, Master.” Proxy explained as he activated machines built into the side of the chair, pumping cool liquid into Star killer’s arms. “But, seeing as this technology is based upon Spaarti flash memory implantation I assume it’s to expedite the mental aspect of your training.” 

“Flash memory.” Starkiller said as his eyes grew heavier and he sank back into the chair. “What...does...that…” 

If Proxy replied Starkiller didn’t hear it as his eyes closed and he fell into an abyss so deep that he couldn’t feel the electrical charges interacting with his neurons. He fell until his feet met solid ground and suddenly Starkiller was standing in a small room cluttered with the remains of droids. Looking around, he felt hot air on his dry skin and could taste sand in the air as he stepped forward towards the small room’s only entry way.

“Starkiller!” a voice that was both familiar and not said from beyond the doorway. “Wake up sweetie, time to eat breakfast. We have a long way today.” 

“Coming mom!” He called, surprised at the words even as they left his mouth. 

That wasn’t his mother’s voice, he knew that much, except it was his mother’s voice. This was his room on Tatooine. He’d lived there all of his life, with his mother and working alongside her at Watto’s shop. Of course, that was right. Starkiller was just a bit confused this morning, he had stayed up late the night before and was paying the price for it this morning. 

“Starkiller! Come on!” His mother called again.  
“Coming mom!” He called and bounded out of the room. 

When he stepped into their small living area Starkiller saw his mother and smiled at her, only for the smile to sour as he saw what was standing beside her. A hulking humanoid draped in robes the color of the desert with its head wrapped into a monstrous bundle. He called out to her just as a spear point went through her back and through her stomach. 

“I...love-” His mother said, her eyes losing their light as the monster slid the spear out and tossed her aside. 

“Mom!” Starkiller yelled. 

The beast screamed at him in a tongue that burned Starkiller’s ears and rushed him. Starkiller grabbed a droid leg and raised it to block the spear only for the world to change as metal met metal. Light bloomed around him and suddenly, Starkiller was holding a blade of light and found himself staring into the eyes of a young man.

“Focus Starkiller!” He insisted. “You cannot let your mind wander in combat. A real opponent won’t hesitate to capitalize on it.” 

“Yes Obi-wan.” Starkiller said as his master disengaged and stepped back. 

“You have great potential Starkiller.” Obi-wan said, as they started to circle each other. “It is my duty to bring it out, but I cannot unless you remain focused. Do you understand?” 

“Yes master.” Starkiller said. 

“Good, then strike at me using form four.” Obi-wan ordered, raising his blade to block. “You tend towards strong attacks, and form four will suit you well as a foundation.” 

He sprung forward to slash at Obi-wan and brought his blade down to clash with his master’s. Only for the blade to give way to soft flesh and the warm mist of blood leaving the body. Starkiller stared in horror as he withdrew his light saber from the corpse of a child wearing the same robes he’d once worn. Stepping back, he looked at the half dozen or so dead children on the floor, and watched their blood pool beneath their eviscerated bodies. 

“Master Starkiller.” The one he just killed said with a lips half cut off. “There are too many of them. What are we going to do?” 

Starkiller’s only response was to scream.


	7. Homecomings and invitations

Cal’s head throbbed as he sat in Rowan’s workshop, watching Rowan alongside Reyna, Greez, and Kella’s blue skinned friend. The quartet were pouring over hyper lane maps, calculations scrawled across every flat wall in the work shop, and half built holographic schematics. At the center of their workspace was the key itself, “open” and emitting a faint violet light from its now exposed core. A line of text in presumably the Kwa language slowly counted down. 

It had been two days since the station had been hit by the “knock” in the Force and the key had opened. Cal, for his part, had spent the time since recovering from falling over directly onto the sharp edge of a crate. Luckily avoiding splitting his head open but earning a deep gash along his temple for said luck. As a bacta solution went to work speeding up is recovery, Cal had taken to watching the collective brain power of the station chew on the problem of the countdown and reaching Tython before whatever event the countdown was a harbinger of happened. 

To Cal’s surprise, a strange sense of calm had over taken him. He didn’t know if it was the head injury or the fact that at the moment he couldn’t do anything to contribute at the moment, but Cal was almost serene as he watched the brains work. Cal found that he enjoyed watching them do it, and despite the occasional order to move his foot off a note page, the others enjoyed having a yokel, as Rowan called him, to bounce rhetorical questions off of. 

“Alright, so if my translation is correct we have roughly a month until the countdown runs out.” Rowan said, walking a light stylus over his fingers, and to Cal’s amusement, unknowingly levitating about an inch off his fingers before recalling it. “Unfortunately for us, the safe route takes around a month and a half.”

“Aye, but if we take the hyper-lane out of o’ Coruscant to Empress Teta, and then overcharge the hyper drives we can coast to Tython in three standard weeks.” Reyna said, lost in double checking her math. 

“There isn’t a lane between Tython and Empress Teta though.” Greez insisted. “Yeah, it’s empty of planets and stars for sure, but you have any idea how many micro impacts that’ll be peppering us? Say we do manage to graft both the Mantis’ and Winds’ drives together and reach the speeds you’re talking about, and that’s a big if, we’ll have to travel through lightyears of dirty space.” 

“Is that bad?” Cal asked. 

“You ever been hit with a blaster bolt?” Rowan asked. 

“Yes.” Cal said. 

“Imagine being hit by a bolt traveling at around a hundred times the velocity, a thousand times a second.” Rowan explained. “The Deep Core is choked with cosmic dirt, it’s like flying into a line of slug throwers a thousand deep.”

“My people deal with similar issues by accelerating a large object, often an asteroid or comet, into hyperspace ahead of a ship so that it will act as a shield.” Roella said, her red eyes watching Rowan’s unconscious Force trick intently. “The problem is in the finding something large enough to act as a shield as well as modifying it to enter hyperspace.” 

“Not a bad idea actually.” Rowan said as he paced. “But we don’t have time to boiler plate a hyper drive to an asteroid big enough.” 

“Well love, there is the Ripcord.” Reyna said. 

“What? No!” Rowan said, looking at this wife as if she just suggested riding a horse into a space battle. “The Ripcord is designed for a short jump and if it got to the speeds we’re talking about it would never leave hyperspace intact.” 

“What is the Ripcord?” Cal asked, sitting up in his chair. 

“The Ripcord is an emergency hyper drive I hardwired into the station’s super structure.” Rowan explained. “This station was a mobile comet harvester before I acquired it, and so it only took a little bit of canoodling to set up a basic emergency jump system. Essentially, if I need to I can jump this entire station, super structure and comet coating included, through hyperspace.” 

“If that’s true then you could accelerate the station through hyperspace ahead of us.” Roella said. “It would make the perfect shield even if you wouldn’t be able to stop it at speed.” 

“Firs off, I live here.” Rowan said, raising an eyebrow at the woman. “Second off, do you know what I’d need to do to get the station traveling fast enough to get us to Tython? I’d need around a ton of refined tyranite just for the station, not to mention what I’ll need to boost the ships’ drives.” 

“Do ye have any other ideas on how to get to Tython before the countdown ends?” Reyna asked. “Love, I know ye don’t want to sacrifice our home, but that countdown means that someone out there knows about the Auger. We need to be on Tython before the countdown ends, before the key explodes or seals us out for a thousand years. Plus, to be honest with ye, I’ve had my eye on a little cottage on Northier for awhile now.” 

“You mean the one outside Silverfoot?” Rowan asked. “The one near the good schools? “

“Aye.” Reyna said, taking her husband’s hand and kissing it. “I know ye don’t want to admit Love, but ye know we wouldn’t be living here our whole lives. We always talked about settling down somewhere safe, and this is a good reason as any to find one. Besides all that, we need tyranite and there’s only one person with enough of a supply that will work with us that I know of.” 

“Granny.” Rowan grumbled before kissing Reyna’s hand and sighing. “After everything we did, we have to go limping back home.” 

“Striding is how I see it.” Reyna said. “Not limping, Love.” 

“Well, the girls will get to see snow again at least.” He grumbled, turning to the others. “Alright, I’ll get on the line and send mother a message. Looks like you’ll be getting paid sooner than you thought, Cal.” 

“You don’t have to go, Rowan.” Cal said. “If it’s just a fuel pick up, then I can take a small crew with me and go get it.” 

“As much as I’d like to let you...” Rowan said, trailing off as he glared into the middle distance. “I need to do this myself, the only reason I left Northtier in the first place was to find Kella and the key. Now I’ve got both and I somehow don’t think my blood mother would forgive me if she found out I kept my long lost sister in my back pocket.” 

“You really have to explain the three mothers thing sometime.” Cal said, as he leaned back in his chair. 

??????

Snow fell all around them as Kella leaned back against the still warm hull of the Cinnamon wind watching Rowan playfully flee from his daughters, each armed with a lump of packed snow. They’d arrived on Northtier earlier that day, after slipping past an Imperial patrol out of Karro by landing among the half snow buried smoke stacks of her brother’s home planet. Part of her was disappointed that she wouldn’t have a chance to see her birth planet, and another was relieved the she wouldn’t have the chance. 

“How are you holding up?” Bola asked, appearing at her side. 

“Let’s see, I’m about to meet the mother I was stolen from when I was three, the auntie who seems to be running an interstellar smuggling ring, and the grandmother who has a reputation for virus bombing entire neighborhoods.” Kella said, wrapping an arm around the short Togruta instinctively. “In short, I’m calm as a crucomer.” 

“There’s that blunt wit I fell in love with.” Bola purred, kissing Kella’s cheek and playfully tugging a lock of raven black hair beneath her hood. “Though, after facing down an entire advance of droids during the war I suspect a little familial drama is small beans.” 

“That’s the thing about droids.” Kella said, watching as one of her nieces slammed a chunk of snow down on Rowan’s head. “They don’t look back at you with your eyes.” 

“Shame they don’t really.” Bola said, smirking at what had to be a dirty thought. “Can you believe any of this? I mean, five years ago I was a diplomat and you were a Jedi knight-” 

“Padawan.” Kella corrected. “I never took the final exam, remember?” 

“Semantics darling, semantics.” Bola said, patting her lover’s cheek. “Now look at us, two dashing young women on a quest to save the galaxy from tyranny! Lusty adventurers cutting a swathe of violence across the galaxy, preparing to open an ancient vault at the heart of the galaxy. Seriously, all we need now is a talking animal side kick and we’d be straight out of an old extra net serial.” 

“You know one of those serials ever had an ending.” Kella reminded her. “Endless adventure with no conclusion. I’d very much like to have some amount of resolution, thank you very much.” 

“Ah, so do I love.” Bola said, resting her head on Kella’s shoulder and winking at her. “But before the resolution and cuddles comes the climax, and you know that’s always been my favorite part.” 

“I swear if you’re this flirty in front of my mother I’ll-” Kella began before Bola cut her off with a kiss. 

“You’ll do what?” She purred as their lips parted and she slipped forward to wrap her arms around Kella. “Hold me in this big strong arms until I say uncle?” 

“What am I going to do with you?” Kella said, returning the hug and pressing her forehead against Bola’s, the Togruta giggling softly as Kella lifted her off the ground. 

“Well, I can suggest a few things.” Bola said, her breath hot against Kella’s face as they stared into each other’s eyes. 

Kella was about to kiss the maddening Togruta when she felt a small hand tug at her coat. She looked down at one of her nieces’ round faces, Roweyna if she’d guessed right, blue green eyes staring up at her with annoyed contempt. Putting Bola down, Kella squatted down to meet her niece eye to eye. 

“What can I do for you sweetie?” Kella asked.   
“Da says to stop smoochin and go talk to him.” She huffed, slamming her mittened hands into her coat pockets. “Gran’s coming and we can’t play no more.” 

“This is why we’re never having children.” Bola grumbled. “Always ruin good tension.” 

“Thank you little one.” Kella said, patting her incensed niece on the head. 

She stood up and looked down the hill to where Rowan stood with Reywan. Beyond them, a sleek merchant vessel was cutting through the air, a bulbous liquids container strapped to its belly. Whirlwinds of snow and ice blew in all directions as the craft landed with a thud and extended its exit ramp. Steam rolled off the exit hatch as it swung open and four figures stepped out into the washed out light of the snow field. 

Kella watched them for a long moment, her heart beating a thousand beats a minute as the steam dissipated and she caught sight of her family for the first time in almost twenty years. Something in the Force resonated in the space between them, a clenching that reflected the clenching of her muscles as she considered the four women. One was obviously not human, but the three others were no doubt related to her by blood. 

With wind flapping her coat, Kella recognized the tallest of them had to be her mother, something in the way she moved and how she looked made Kella certain of that. The other woman was younger, walking with the same loud arrogance that Rowan mimicked in his every step and an aloof detachment from the preceding. Between them stood an older woman, shriveled by age with a back warped by the years until she was practically hunched over. These women were her family, the only people in the universe connected to her directly by the blood in her veins. 

By the time she reached Rowan and her nieces, the woman had come to a stop around a dozen yards away. Kella looked into her mother’s eyes and saw a mirror of her own face staring back at her, tears falling down the woman’s face as she considered Kella. Heavy silence vibrated in the air between them and Kella almost managed a word when her mother rushed forward to wrap her in a hug filled with nearly twenty years of longing and regret. She dissolved into the hug, letting a fragment of a memory from before she was taken away from these strong arms bring tears to her own eyes. 

“Welcome home my girl.” Her mother whispered. “Welcome home.” 

????????

Plasma met plasma as the sabers clashed and Starkiller’s muscles screamed with the exertion as he and Proxy fought. Memories of hundreds of sparring sessions guided his movements, instinct guiding every step and attack. He could feel his body molding to the memory, muscles aligning with the phantom scars of a dozen battles as exercise and Proxy’s attacks strengthened his physical form. 

“Well met, Master.” Proxy said as their blades slid free of one another and he stepped back. “The Flash memory technique has improved your form, resolve, and ability to override basic survival instincts by a substantial 56%. As a reward I will decrease my lethal action settings by 5% to allow you an easy cool down match.” 

“Thank you, Proxy.” Starkiller said, taking the opportunity to catch his breath. “While you’re configuring your settings, can you tell me where the memories came from?” 

Though the memories had melded with Starkiller’s mind flawlessly the boy knew they weren’t his. They were real, he knew that, and as they melded to his synapses the memories anchored themselves to his very core, but no matter how deep their claws were, the memories weren’t his. He had never known the man who’d trained him in the memories, the pretty woman he’d loved, or the Togruta girl he’d trained. The memories were of someone else’s life, someone else’s fall to the dark side. His master’s fall.

“From you Master.” Proxy explained as his internal machinery whirred. “These memories originate from a file named...I am receiving an encrypted communication from Lord Vader. Stand by.” 

Proxy stiffened and with a shudder shifted his form into that of Lord Vader himself. Starkiller knelt and looked at the ground in deference to his master, refusing to look at the man who’s memories he now carried. The towering figure looked down at him for a long moment before clapping his hands. 

“Proper respect is an admirable trait in an apprentice, Starkiller.” Lord Vader said. “Raise your head, boy.” 

“Yes master.” Starkiller said, looking up at his master. 

“Good, now tell me, have the memories taken hold?” He asked. 

“Yes master.” Starkiller said. “I...remember an entire life that is not mine. Your life.” 

“Perceptive.” Vader said, approval in his tone. “Do you know why I implanted my memories in you, boy?” 

“No master.” Starkiller said. “It is not my place to question you.” 

“Correct.” Vader said, a chuckle breaking some of the imposing facade. “Starkiller, search your memories for a woman named-” 

Vader trailed off and Starkiller watched as something passed through him before he continued. 

“-Padme.” He finished. “Tell me, what do you remember of her?” 

Starkiller didn’t speak as he tried to summon the memories of this Padme. What came to him was scattered memories of a beautiful woman, kind and strong in a way that he wasn’t. Saw her standing in the moonlight, smiling at him, and a thousand little moments of kindness and connection between them. The memories warmed him in a way that Starkiller couldn’t describe, and he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. 

“She was...good.” Starkiller said. 

“Indeed she was.” Lord Vader said. “She was my wife, my sun and stars, and she was your mother my son.” 

“What?!” Starkiller said, jumping to his feet. 

“Yes.” Lord Vader said, stepping forward to place a hand on Starkiller’s shoulder. “You are Padme and I’s son. Born the day our great enemy killed her, the day he stole the life from her to entrap me in this cage he calls armor.” 

“No...” Starkiller said, some forgotten part of himself screaming in the depths of his mind. “No. That's not true! That's impossible! You...” 

Images flashed in his mind’s eye, a man wielding a light saber against Lord Vader only to be cut down. 

“You...killed...” Starkiller muttered. 

“Search your feelings.” Lord Vader said, his voice somehow soft as he spoke. “You know it to be true.” 

As that strange shard of memory sank back into the depths of his mind, Starkiller did indeed know this was the truth. Absolute certainty settled around him like a cloak and Starkiller looked up at his father. Taking comfort in his once imposing presence. 

“I do...” He said. “Father.” 

“Good.” Vader said. “You are my heir and my apprentice Starkiller. In you, I have instilled all that I was before our enemy’s treachery and in you I will sculpt my legacy. Together, we shall strike down our enemies and unite the Empire around the true Lords of the Force. Anakin Skywalker and his son Galen Skywalker.” 

“My...my name is Galen?” Starkiller asked, his mind latching onto the name as if it was an absolute truth. 

“Yes, your mother chose it with her last breath.” Lord Vader explained. “But that name is for when our is done, Starkiller. Until our enemy is dead and our plans fulfilled, neither of us may use our true names. Only in victory shall we we say our true names.” 

“Yes...father.” Starkiller said. “But who is our great enemy?” 

“You know the answer.” Lord Vader said. “He was there at my rebirth, and the reason for our fall. Our enemy brought truth, but truth wrapped in lies. Do not concern yourself with his name just yet, my son. Your time will come and when it does I expect you to be ready.” 

With that the feed cut, leaving Starkiller alone with Proxy and his new reality. 

???????

“Really Vader?” a familiar voice chided. “Stooping this low?”

Vader sighed as he disengaged the holo communicator and turned to glower at the ghost of his one time liberator. 

“Do not speak to me of lies and half truths, Jedi.” Vader said, stepping through the ghost. “The Jedi filled their padawans’ heads with lies and warped what was true to serve their agenda. At the very least I will give the boy a father and a path beyond what your ilk could ever hope to offer.” 

“Over confidence is a slow and insidious killer, Anakin.” Qui-Gon mocked. “You’ve found a way to tap into the Cosmic Force and empower yourself, but you take none of the wisdom it offers. Only the power. You’ve taken the first step towards a better way, but you squander it with lies and sacrifice.” 

“You know, my master is obsessed with finding a way to slip the mortal coil.” Vader said, ignoring the ghost as he took a seat at a work bench. “He’s spent decades pouring over the Sith teachings on the Force, trying to dominate it as if it was a single gestalt. A dumb leviathan he can chain to his will, but here you stand, sustained by the Cosmic Force. Immortal if ethereal.” 

“Vader, I know what you plan to do.” Qui-Gon said. “The door to the Cosmic can only be held open for so long, and your “correction” of the balance is a dangerous game to play. You cannot hope to use the power of a Sith to command the-” 

“Which is why I don’t plan to.” Vader interrupted, picking up a pauldron coated in white crystal-metal mesh. “The Sith have always been an anomaly in the Force, those who sought only destruction and domination through absolute command of the Force. An order as doomed to destruction as the Jedi, and only pretenders to the mantle of the Dark side. You see Qui-gon, the Dark side is not evil, nor is the Light side good, but it is the intent behind the wielder that decides morality of the power. Control of one’s self as the Jedi taught and control of the Force as the Sith taught may be required to wield true power.” 

Qui-gon remained silent.

“What is the matter, Master Qui-gon.” Vader spat. “Don’t you disagree? Is the Light not the natural state of the Force? Isn’t the darkness an aberration? Or is that the weakness of losing control and allowing the corruptive miasma that is power in the hands of a mortal man the defines “evil”?” 

“You are not entirely wrong.” Qui-gon admitted. “The Darkness is part of the Cosmic Force, just as much as the light is, but those who dabble in it have fallen to their own shortcomings. Greed and hatred polluting them as it does the Force they fool themselves into thinking they command. To wield the Darkness takes as much if not more control than it takes to wield the light. Control you failed to keep when you fell, Anakin.” 

“Obi wan taught that failure is the best teacher.” Vader said, placing the pauldron down on the table. “The Sith way leads to hatred, corruption, and ultimately destruction. So I will go my own way, as you once did to do Qui-Gon, or did the Jedi teach you how to exist beyond death?” 

“I can only warn you Anakin.” Qui-Gon said. “Those who seek power often find it turned against them.” 

“I do not seek to command power, Qui-Gon.” Vader said, reaching forward through the Force. “I seek to become it.” 

Before he could respond, Vader flexed his will and the ghost dissipated into thin air. 

?????

“So, you’re going to fling yourself through dirty space with only a decommissioned ice mining rig as a shield?!” Verona Blackfire, aunt to Kella and Rowan, yelled at the collected young people. “After a door that might not even exist?” 

The Blackfire family along with the crew of the Mantis, Reyna, and the two two year olds sat around a well worn black wood table, talking as they ate a hearty dinner. Cal sat across from Moira, the matriarch of the Blackfires, and watched her silently drink in the conversation as she buttered a roll. Despite being the catalyst for the entire endeavor she was surprisingly quiet as her grandchildren lobbied for her help on what was a long shot. 

“The door exists moth….” Rowan said, trailing off as his biological mother raised an eyebrow at him. “Auntie. Someone reached through the Force and triggered the key’s countdown, be it counting down to an explosion or sealing the gate forever, we need to get to Tython before it finishes. Whoever activated the key wanted to force our hand, so we don’t have the luxury of the regular routes.” 

“He is correct.” Trilla said. “Be it Trazen coming after what we stole or the Empire itself, if what’s locked away on Tython is half of what Rowan describes it as, we can’t afford to allow anyone else to possess the Auger.” 

“And if we don’t leave today we won’t make it in time.” Cal said, looking both of Rowan’s mothers in the eye before continuing. “You sent me to find Rowan, and so I found him and your long lost daughter. I know it’s a risk, a very big risk, but we’re the only people with the knowledge and skill to pull this off. Cere picked up chatter that an Imperial star destroyer was dispatched to Tython three days before the key was activated. Either we act now, or risk the Empire gaining absolute mastery over Hyperspace. Right now, we’re the galaxy’s only hope.” 

“No.” Valla, Rowan and Kella’s biological mother, said. “I just found out that my daughter wasn’t murdered in some battlefield ditch by a run away clone, and you expect me to send both of my children into the heart of the Deep Core on some mythic quest? Absolutely not.”

“Frankly mom, we’re asking for assistance.” Rowan said. “Not permission.” 

“You’re entire life you have rebelled against our family, Rowan.” Valla said. “Please just this once listen to me.” 

“I don’t think he should.” Moira said, leaning back in her chair. “You are correct Valla, his entire life this boy has rebelled against his birthright and his duties, but here he is, asking us for aid in potentially saving the Galaxy. Our rebel without a cause has found something to fight for, and I for one am not so heartless as to refuse him.” 

“You...you...you’re...” Rowan stammered. “You’re agreeing with me?” 

“Trust me, I won’t make a habit of it my boy.” Moira said, her thin lips curling back into a predator’s smile. “As such, I will be providing the requested Tyranium and equipment free of charge, so long as you do your grandmother the honor of babysitting her beautiful great granddaughters while you’re on your little trip.” 

“Well Granny, my Da was going to-” Reyna began before the old woman cut her off with a look. 

“Lady Reyna, your father is more than welcome to stay with us to enjoy some quality time with his granddaughters.” Moira said. “A visit from Sorkien nobility is always appreciated, and giving the girls so many family members to enjoy will be nothing but beneficial.” 

“Lady Reyna?” Trilla asked. 

“I be a noble, aye.” Reyna said, rolling her eyes. “One of the old clans of Sorkien. It’s no big deal, trust me.” 

“Moving on.” Verona said, clearly following her mother’s decree. “We can strap the tyranite to the Cinnamon Wind and I can have the equipment loaded within the hour. What, pray tell, do you need so much material for in the first place?” 

“We’ll be spending the better part of three weeks stuck in a ship.” Rowan explained. “Plus, I’ve got an Astromech forge and all sorts of nasty ideas for our Imp friends.” 

“Rowan, I try my best to convince my friends you aren’t a terrorist, so please stop making the idea so difficult to believe.” Verona said, rubbing her temples. 

An hour later, a small work crew was busy loading the Cinnamon Wind and the Mantis with cargo and supplies while a droid crew was strapping the tank of liquid tyranite to a scaffold connecting the two ships. The beginnings of the super structure that would allow the two ships to bundle together and hide behind the shield of the station. Cal watched the work crews go about their buisness when he felt the presence of Moira Blackfire at his side. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just took in the undertaking. 

“Cal.” She said after a solid five minutes. “Thank you for bringing my grandchildren home.” 

“Did you know he was going after Kella?” Cal asked, looking at the shriveled woman. 

“I had good reason to make the assumption, but good reason and certainty are two entirely different things.” Moira explained. “There’s an old Karrocki legend about twins, some drivel about one soul forged so bright that it must be split between two bodies or some such. Considering that Kella was a Jedi and all, there was a good chance Rowan would find her if she was alive.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Cal said. “You knew.” 

“Ah, how suspicious the youth of today have become.” Moira said, sighing dramatically before chuckling to herself. “When you return from Tython, you will find the vessel containing your payment tucked away in an abandoned ship yard in the Vastroyan system. I trust that Rowan will want to peruse it with his sticky little fingers, but I think you’ll be satisfied with your payment.” 

“You’re still paying me?” Cal asked. 

“Why not?” Moira asked. “You returned Rowan as ordered and even brought us Kella. If anything, I owe you a bonus.” 

“But, we’re also taking your grandchildren into and obvious trap after an immeasurably powerful artifact that may or may not be a weapon.” Cal reminded her. 

“Cal, you don’t live as long as I do without learning the proper moment to accept the way the current of fate is flowing.” Moira said. “My grandson would find his way off Karro or Northtier within the month, and I suspect with Kella’s aid neither of my grandchildren would have stayed long enough to let the dust settle. This way I know where they are and that they are poking the Emperor directly in his irritated eye.” 

“I see.” Cal said. 

“There’s no pride in lying my boy.” Moira said, patting his arm. 

??????????

Two days later the combined mass of the Cinnamon Wind and the Mantis were scaffolded together, screaming through Hyperspace behind what had been Rowan’s space station. The trailing tail of ice, dust, and extra spacial matter created by the station’s ice coating being flaked off by micro impacts shield them as they made their way through the Inner Core and onto the Deep Core. This meant that while there would probably be no random Imperial forces blasting them out of Hyperspace, but it also meant that the weeks between them and Tython would be about as eventful as watching sand blow in the wind. 

As a result, the combined crews of the two ships had more down time than they knew what to do with, Merrin especially. She had occupied most of her time reading and contemplating the knowledge within the Book of Laws, but found that she would absorb the wisdom better if she gave herself breaks every so often. So, Merrin found herself walking through the Cinnamon Wind’s galley when she caught sight of Rowan and Kella locked in combat in a cleared section of the ship’s galley. Rowan wielded his strange tonfas and Kella wielding her light saber, it’s radiance lower than usual as it whacked Rowan with far less than lethal force. 

“Merrin.” Trilla said from where she and Cal sat. “Join us for a spot of coffee and a show, will you?” 

“Why are they fighting?” Merrin asked as she melted into Cal’s arm and accepted a cup of coffee. 

“Philosophical debate.” Cal explained. “Rowan believes the Auger is a tool whereas Kella thinks it’s a weapon, so they’re debating while sparring.” 

“Is that common among Jedi?” Merrin asked. 

“Yes actually.” Trilla said. “Though not too common, some of the older masters believed it to be meditative to debate one’s philosophy while in the middle of a duel. Meditation and resolution through the exertion of the mind and body.” 

“How long have they been fighting?” Merrin asked. 

“Around twenty minutes.” Trilla said, sipping at her coffee. “Which is around nineteen minutes more than I thought he’d last, I’ll give Rowan that.” 

Merrin watched and listed to the twins as they stuck at each other. Kella was calm focus, all skill and ingrained grace as she expertly tore at Rowan’s guard to force him into defense. Meanwhile, Rowan had no set style or technique it seemed, instead Rowan adapted his stance on the fly. One moment blocking an attack and the next contorting his body unexpectedly to whack his sister in the shin or the spine. The two were quite literally foils to each other, fighting styles that countered each other almost perfectly. 

“Are they supposed to be talking?” Merrin asked, realizing that neither twin was speaking as they laid into each other. 

“They were but stopped that around fifteen minutes ago.” Cal said. “Trilla and I are taking bets on if they just aren’t bothering with it anymore or the debate’s going on telepathically.” 

“My money is on they’re just too involved in the fighting.” Trilla chuckled. 

“Hm.” Merrin watched the twins intently as they continued their fighting. 

She deepened her breathing and allowed her perception to spread outward, through the Force. Slowly, it spread to the twins, tinting each with an aura as her perception split from the mundane to gaze directly into the energies all around them. In the energy she saw two silhouettes, one the color of steel and the other the color of copper, each giving off an aurora of light that clashed with the other. Every clash of blade against guard or cunning counter attack changed the balance just slightly, as the differing lights fought for supremacy. Thoughts and intentions wordlessly transferring between the twins as the Force carried them through each blow. 

“Cal wins.” Merrin said, bringing her perception back to the physical world. “They are communicating through the Force, not just fighting.” 

“I suppose I’ll stop by the bank at the next stop.” Trilla said, rolling her eyes. 

Cal almost spoke when Rowan stepped back and stumbled. Kella leaped forward and with a flourish brought her blade slamming into his throat before wrenching her wrist to hook the low powered blade against his ear. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kella braced her free hand against the bottom of the light saber’s handle and forced her brother down into the floor. Rowan’s head smacked against the floor with a loud thump and he went still. 

“Rowan!” Cal yelled as he jumped towards Rowan. 

He only made it about halfway when Rowan suddenly jerked him self up and drove his hand into Kella’s stomach. A grunt of exertion escaped his lips as the air around them shifted slightly before Kella was thrown backward as a wave of force erupted from Rowan’s open palm. Kella went flying back and only managed to just barely stop herself from tumbling over a table. 

“Huh.” Rowan huffed, flexing his fingers experimentally. “That worked.” 

“Are you okay?” Cal asked as he slid to his knees to examine an already forming welt on Rowan’s forehead. 

“I’m fine.” Rowan said, looking past Cal to Kella and flashing her a gap toothed grin. “I just won after all.” 

“Pulling a basic use of the Force out of your ass isn’t winning.” Kella growled before turning on her heels and making for the door. “I’m going to take a shower.” 

“Don’t mind her.” Rowan said, as Cal helped him to his feet. “A flair for the dramatic is a dominant gene is us Blackfires.” 

“You used the Force.” Merrin said as she stepped forward to stand by Cal. “In the same way Cal does.” 

“Sort of.” Cal said, patting Rowan on the arm. “It was a Force push I’ll give you that, but my master would have grilled you over how sloppy it was. Though I’m just curious how you managed to do it at all.” 

“I’ve been practicing, well, I’ve been staring daggers at tin cans trying to knock them off shelves.” Rowan explained. “But that was the first time it worked, during the fight I could feel it building inside me. This anticipation as if I was using a muscle for the first time, and when Kella forced me to the ground that anticipation burst. Suddenly I knew that I could do it, not try to do it, but do it if that makes sense.” 

“It does.” Trilla said, a half vicious smile on her lips. “Though I believe Cal and I had those moments when we were around eight years old.” 

“Well not everyone gets trained by creepy wizards, now do we?” Rowan snipped at her. 

????? 

“The Crusader is en route to Tython as we speak, my lord.” The officer said over the holo link. “We expect them to arrive within the three week restriction.” 

“Excellent.” Vader said. “Tell them to wait until the ships have left Hyperspace and covertly follow them to the Gate. Once the gate is open unleash the full might of the infantry upon them until I arrive.” 

“You will be arriving, Lord Vader?” The officer asked. “I was not aware you had commissioned a ship.” 

“What I do is no buisness of yours.” Vader said “Relay my orders and do not contact me again until they breach Hyperspace.” 

The officer saluted and the line blinked out leaving Vader alone in his comms room. He queued in the next address and hesitated before pressing the transmission key. This was where his plans entered their most dangerous, albeit potentially lucrative, stage. Pressing this key would mean that he was committed, and that there was no going back. Vader hesitated for only a moment before pressing the button and sending the transmission link screaming across the galaxy. With practiced deference, Vader knelt and waited as the transmission was accepted. 

“Lord Vader.” His master’s voice reached him before the image of the monster appeared to tower above him. “What a pleasure it is to hear from you, my apprentice.” 

“Master, I have good news to report.” Vader said, looking up to gaze into his master’s eyes. “The installation of the remote console was successful and with Trazen’s “assistance” I believe a gateway between Mustafar and the Auger can be created when the gate on Tython is opened. I will be able to destroy the rebel Jedi and claim the Auger in one blow.” 

“Excellent my apprentice.” The old man cackled. “You have done your master a great service, and when we have the Auger you will be rewarded greatly.” 

“Thank you, my master.” Vader said, bowing slightly. “I will claim the Auger personally. Trazen’s limited knowledge will allow for at least a partial activation, and once it is activated nothing will stand against the Empire.” 

“Yes...yes.” Sidious said, an almost imperceptible twitch in his left eye practically screaming at Vader. “You believe that you possess the power to defeat these Jedi on your own? They have bested you before.” 

“I do master.” Vader insisted. 

He’s got the scent of the honey. He thought. Now let us see if he will bite the lure.

“When they are defeated, I will be in sole possession of the Auger and the power it commands.” Vader said, allowing prideful determination flavor his voice. “Or should I say, we will be in possession of the Auger, my master.” 

“Yes….” Sidious said, a spark of suspicion lighting his eyes. “No my apprentice, this is a historic day for the Sith and the Empire. Tython and any dimension linked to it is dangerous for those not steeled against such...cosmic forces. I will accompany you to this Auger and together we shall take it, as master and apprentice.” 

“You honor me with your presence, master.” Vader said, for once appreciating the mangling of his face as it hid his sneer. “I will prepare my castle for your arrival and our transference to the place beyond as the Kwa styled it.” 

“See that you do.” Sidious said. “I will not tolerate failure even in the smallest detail, Vader.” 

“Of course my master.” Vader said, bowing again as Sidious nodded and his image blinked out. “We wouldn’t want a single detail to be missed, now would we?”


	8. One door opens and another closes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Sorry for the delay, got caught up in some OC work before finally sitting down to get this chapter hammered out.

Cal sat meditating in the Cinnamon Wind’s still room, a section of the ship designed specifically to always remain calm even during violent maneuvering, and let his mind reach outward in all directions. In truth, it was the oldest trick in the book as far as the Jedi were concerned. Allowing one’s mind to spread out among the currents of the Force, and for a brief time achieve peace in being immersed in the current. Here among the darkness of hyperspace and in the bosom of the ship, Cal felt that peace differently than at any point in his life.

Part of him knew that he should be afraid, worried that they were heading into the deepest quagmire in the galaxy as they raced against who ever attacked them through the Force. Yet, as he focused in on himself, on his mission and what he needed to protect, there was not a trace of fear. He was done with fear, once it had consumed him to the point that he cut the Force out of his life. As if it was a burden dragging him into the abyss instead of the life preserver dragging him to the surface. The Force was peace, it was the balance between life and death, the whole made up of the many. Both the Cosmos and entropy personified. 

“The Force is me and I am the Force.” Cal whispered, his words traveling into the Force itself as if he was a tuning fork. 

His perception continued to expand, following the wake created by his words. Cal found Merrin, the woman he loved and shared perhaps a piece of his soul with, not but a few yards away. Tucked into a cozy corner, she poured over her focus and the book so bright in the Force that Cal could swear it was written with the Force itself. Her image in the force was of glittering onyx, pulsing with the emerald light of a million tiny stars within her. Silently, he reached out to her and felt an electric surge as his mind found hers. 

“Cal.” He heard her say and with a sigh she released her energies outward, flowing into his so they could dance like nebulae waiting to birth a star. 

They came together, two spectral forms against the back drop of the Force and began to dance. The world around the two barely an after thought as they moved to music no one else could hear, spectral forms melding and breaking seemingly at random. An eternity and just a moment passed as they simply enjoyed each other, took comfort in the undeniable fact that they could reach across the emptiness of space and find each other. Took comfort from the fact that two survivors need never be alone again. 

“Cal.” 

He opened his eyes and found himself back in reality with Merrin in his arms. Merrin’s legs were wrapped around his waist and she sat comfortably in his lap, her face barely an inch away from his. Cal’s arms wrapped around her instinctively and he held her close, his forehead against hers. 

“That’s cheating you know.” He said, staring into her eyes. 

“Yes, it is.” She said, a laugh just behind every word. 

“I am so glad I met you.” Cal said, gently rocking back and forth as they held each other. 

“I am glad too.” Merrin replied. “How else would I have gotten off Dathomir? Not too many cute Jedi stopping by these days.” 

“You know, I remember you weren’t such a comedian when we met.” Cal said, planting a kiss on her lips. 

“I blame you and Greez, bad influences all.” Merrin said, returning the kiss. 

They stayed like that for a long while, lost in each other as they traded sweet nothings and let their close contact warm them both. Eventually as all things must, their moment timeless moment ended with a lurch of the ship and the tell tale hum of a hyper-drive deactivating. Slowly, an electric sensation worked its way over the pair, as if they were slowly being lowered into cold water. Every cell shivering as they stood up, Cal and Merrin looked to each other. 

“We’re here.” Cal said, slipping his arm over Merrin’s shoulders. 

“Yes.” She replied, wrapping her arm around his waist. “Tython.” 

?????

Rowan stood before the holo table staring at the planet displayed there. It was a mid sized world, covered in thick forests with two moons equally as lush orbiting it. All in all it was a curiosity more than anything, a habitable world nestled in one of the oldest sectors of the Galaxy, but something about it was nagging at him. He could feel the power of this planet, feel it like an anchor on his chest, and for the first time in his life he felt the Force as it truly was. 

Rowan raised a hand and unfurled his fingers revealing a smooth metal washer stuck to his palm. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and focused on the washer. Feeling for the “muscle” he’d used in his duel with Kella, Rowan willed the washer to move. Focusing on the mental image of it rising off his palm and forcing out any other outcome out of his mind’s eye. He was Rowan Blackfire, he would do where others tried. 

“I am one with the Force and the Force is one with me.” He muttered, remembering the old mantra of the keepers of Jedha. “I am one with the Force and the Force is one with me.” 

He opened his eyes and watched as the washer rose an inch off his palm. Swallowing a triumphant cry, Rowan focused on the washer and the phantom sensation as he flexed the “muscle” lifting the washer. With a thought, he set the washer to spinning and felt the relief as exercise broke loose tension he hadn’t known was collecting. Like grime breaking off a gear assembly revealing a gleaming machine beneath, waiting to be used. 

“And this is part of all of us.” He said, as breathless as a pilgrim having an epiphany. “All we need to do is reach out to it.” 

“Realizing that we’re the river and not the stones, eh?” Trilla said, appearing in the door way with a tray of coffee mugs in one hand. 

“Ughm, yes I suppose.” Rowan said, dropping the washer with a clink as he jumped back. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Trilla said, stepping up to the table and tapping one of Tython’s moons. “I remember the day I realized the same thing, such a powerful lesson for anyone to learn. Especially a ten year old.” 

“It’s...” Rowan said. “It’s an odd feeling.” 

“Just you wait, as your sense of the Force develops you’ll start to get a lot of odd feelings.” Trilla said, laughing darkly. “The Force is infinite, and though we may be part of it, our singular minds just can’t understand the majesty of the Force all at once. It’s like reading a book a sentence at a time over the course of decades.” 

“Thank goodness, and here I thought I’d be flinging around unlimited power all willy nilly.” Rowan said, rolling his eyes. 

“Alright! We’re locked in to enter orbit in around three hours.” Greez said, barging into the room. “Cere’s glued to her comms station and I’m hankering for some coffee.” 

“Morning Greez.” Trilla said, handing him a cup of coffee. “Speaking of Cere, I haven’t seen her in days. Is she alright?” 

“She’s been sulking since the pulse or what ever that was.” Greez explained, shaking his head. “I’ve been trying to talk to her, but as we’ve gotten closer to Tython she’s just burying herself in monitoring for any sign of trouble.” 

“I’ll talk to her before we disembark.” Trilla said. “Her connection to the Force is strained at best, and the last thing we need is for Cere to exhaust herself.” 

“Can’t say I blame her.” Rowan said. “I can feel Tython, like you can “see” the sun even if your eyes are closed.” 

“It’s the cradle for all modern force philosophy.” Trilla said, staring at the planet. “There’s a reason our ancient predecessors settled it, and there’s a reason they left. Something tells me we shouldn’t terry here.” 

“From what I’ve read of the Auger we won’t need to.” Rowan explained. “Supposedly it could move through hyperspace almost instantly. All we have to do is get it online long enough for me to que in an extra galactic jump. There’s a nice little pocket of stars just outside Imperially explored space that I have my eyes on.” 

“You seem to have this all planned out.” Greez said, raising a bushy eyebrow at Rowan. “How certain are you exactly that this will work? Or that you can even turn this thing on without killing us?” 

“Currently sitting between absolute certainty and absolute gobsmacked panic at the moment.” Rowan said, flashing a gap toothed grin at Greez. “But I do some of my best work in the moment, so don’t worry your fuzzy head about it.” 

“Do you count almost blowing us both up with a dozen seismic charges as some of your best work?” Greez asked. 

“It worked didn’t it?” Rowan asked. 

“That’s not remotely the point.” Greez said, rubbing his temples. “Sometimes I miss the days when all I had to worry about was some gangster out of Tatooine coming to collect a gambling debt.” 

“But think of the stories you can tell next time you saddle up to a card table.” Trilla said, making no effort to hide her amusement. “I can’t say I’ve heard of many pilots who’ve delved so deep in the galactic core after treasure and adventure as you, Greez.” 

“In other words take the clout and shut up.” Greez said, raising his arms up in surrender even if he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. 

?????

Elsewhere, between the ships: 

Cere sat in a temporary comms room, really just the comms arrays of the two ships spliced together into on monstrosity of wire and antennae. Greez wasn’t wrong when he said she’d been obsessed with sniffing out any hint that they were being followed or had company waiting for him. But what he didn’t know was that she had stolen something from the small safe they kept in the bowels of the Mantis, a smooth cylinder containing the catalyst for disaster or salvation if she used it correctly. 

Taking off her headset, Cere sat back and withdrew the cylinder from the pack at her feet. She could feel the sliver of black metal floating inside the smooth glass. Feel it’s darkness call out, hungry and cold to whisper promises of power to her. Promise that if she gave a pound of flesh she would have the power to protect the ones she most needed to. This close to Tython, the sliver was practically singing to her, and it took every ounce of Cere’s will power to not open the tube and take the weapon into her hands. To finally let the darkness take her and give her the power hatred and anger promised. 

“I don’t need you.” Cere whispered to the hateful thing. 

Oh really? A cold mockery of her own voice asked. You don’t? 

“Not yet.” Cere said. “Trilla came back from the darkness, and these children are some of the strongest I’ve ever met. They won’t need me.” 

Are you fine with that? The voice asked. Fine with being the pathetic old master, regulated to taking phone calls? 

“No.” She admitted. 

Don’t worry. The voice whispered, a chill passing down her spine. Our time will come.

???????

Starkiller’s stomach sank as the craft descend through the clouds of ash revealing the rivers of magma and spewing vents covering the planet’s surface. This was a place of power and significance, both his connection to the Force and the phantom memory of his father coloring his view of the landscape with horrible meaning. This was where his father was betrayed by the Jedi and this was where his father had erected a monument to that betrayel. 

As the ship landed he caught sight of it, a tower of shimmering black veined in dense lines of runes, each glowing with light color of blood. Starkiller could feel it more than he could see it, the tower stood out among the landscape like a ray of black sunlight, yet as he was hurried along by Proxy, Starkiller didn’t feel any negative feelings coming from the tower. Only absolute power tempered by control, as if the tower itself was just an extension of its master, and not a product of emotion or weakness. 

“Proxy.” He said, holding back a cough as they walked. “That tower is made of dark. Does that make sense?” 

“That statement is illogical and improperly uses physical descriptors, but yes Master I agree that the building does appear to be made of dark.” Proxy admitted, his holographic array blinking slightly as the harsh atmosphere of the planet washed over him. 

As they trudged through the ash coated walkway the tower’s presence only grew stronger, smothering Starkiller’s perception in absolute focus. He could feel the strange energies of this place, warm and resolute, slipping through him as if he was a sponge rooted in the path of an ocean current. Found that the power felt good on his cramped muscles and racing mind. Felt his own power surge as he stepped closer to the obsidian door, and felt for the first time not a call to hatred or anger but to a cold sort of control that was beyond either lesser emotion. That call blinded him to the corpses resting in the ash heaps to the sides of the pathway, and obscured the looks of fear on the Purge troopers’ faces. 

They stepped through the doorway after another few minutes of walking, and came into a wide entry hall. The walls were pure obsidian, veined in pitch black metals and blooms of dark red crystal that thrummed slightly as they walked past. Starkiller was fascinated by the runes etched into almost every surface, recognizing the handful his father had taught him as the mysteries of Sith engineering and alchemy. Yet there were a thousand more that he could barely make out let alone comprehend, some were neatly ordered and almost beautiful in how they were written as if they were miniature works of art, while others were so alien that it hurt to look at them for too long. 

“My son.” His father’s voice echoed through the hall. “Welcome to my humble abode.” 

“Fa...father.” Starkiller said, biting his lip to stop himself from jumping back into Proxy. “This place is...amazing.” 

“Indeed it is my son.” His father’s voice boomed. “All that I knew as a Jedi and all I have learned as a cursed apprentice of the Sith has gone into forging this castle, my son. Do you feel the power here? Sense the potency of our alter?” 

“Yes father.” Starkiller said, nodding vigorously as he basked in the sheer majesty of the place. “Is this...is this the power of the Sith?” 

“No my son.” His father’s voice said, suddenly a whisper almost swallowed up by the low hum of the castle. “This is the power of the Dark Side, not the poison the Sith drink gladly until they are turned to rotting husks. In this castle lies the first sparks of the true Darkness, a darkness that cannot exist without the light to be sure, but is far more potent than what my master could ever hope to wield. For in this tower boy, rests the Cosmic Darkness and in its mysteries lies the absolute power to balance the light. All you must do my son is reach out for it, and you shall know it’s eternal majesty.” 

Without question he did, and reached out beyond his physical form through the Force. The instant his mind left the confines of his mortal shell, Starkiller was met with a tidal wave of black power that washed over him with bone crushing force. Potent energies flowed into him, saturating every cell with strange alien warmth and the horrible ecstasy of every nerve activating at once. His body trembled and he fell to his knees as raw power seeped into his muscles, his bones, into the very nuclei of his cells until every atom thrummed like a tuning fork. Reverberating with power his underdeveloped mind could barely perceive let alone process. Then it was done and Starkiller found himself on his knees, sweat dripping from every pore as the titanic high faded and he returned to his senses. 

“Good, feel your new strength my son.” His father said as he appeared before Starkiller. “Let it settle as if it was an extension of yourself, do not fight it or attempt to control it. Simply exist alongside it.”

He forced himself to breath slowly, taking air in through his nose and out through his mouth, savoring the surprising chill in the air with each breath. Slowly, he began to acclimate to the power flowing through him, to the connection to the true darkness. Felt it flow through his veins like his life blood, felt it animate his muscles like electrical impulses, and felt it warm his flesh as if it were his own body heat. With a final breath, he felt the power merge with all that he was and all he could be, felt the peak he now stood at as he looked up at his father’s masked face. 

“Thank you father.” Starkiller said, absolute control smoothing the childish cracking that once affected his voice. “This is beyond anything I thought possible.” 

“You are welcome my son.” Lord Vader said, kneeling down to offer Starkiller a hand. “Together we will grow even stronger than this, my son. Stand where no Sith has ever stood, where no Jedi has stood. You and I will forge an empire built from the cosmic blackness that will survive both the resurgence of the Light and its waning. Take my hand boy, and we will begin the preparations for our final trap.” 

He looked at the black gloved hand for a long moment. There was still something at the back of his mind pulling at him to run, to escape from this place and forsake the power his father offered. Yet Starkiller could not stop himself any more than he could pluck a star destroyer out of the sky, and he reached out to take his father’s hand. Strong fingers wrapped around his own in a firm grip that was almost caring as Vader helped him to his feet. 

“Come boy.” Vader said, gesturing for Starkiller to follow. “There is much to be done before our guest arrives.” 

“A guest, father?” Starkiller asked as they began to walk. 

“Oh yes my son, we are expecting illustrious company.” His father said, something like a wry chuckle barking out of speakers. “In fact, we shall be preparing to make this fortress suitable for an Imperial funeral.” 

?????

Merrin entered Rowan’s workshop, subtly aware that the strange man she’d come to like somewhat, was aware of her despite her best efforts. He didn’t bother looking up from the garment he was tinkering with, but there was a subtle shift to his body language that told Merrin that she was welcome to take a seat. She did so and watched him go about his work, stitching gleaming black thread into a bodice and connecting lengths of dark green ribbon into a central hub of smooth black metal on the back of the garment. Her eyes fell on her sphere, once a shattered remnant and now a restored sphere what had survived the purge on Dathomir recast within gleaming Kyberite, Rowan’s own recipe for something he called “Amped Kyberite”. 

“Almost done.” Rowan said, stitching the last of the green ribbon into the folds of the body suit masking it completely. “There we are, your new favorite outfit is done Lady Merrin.” 

“My new favorite outfit?” Merrin asked, as Rowan lifted up the garment and showed it to her. 

“Well, it’s more of a compliment to your travel clothes, but it’s going to make your Force magicks far easier to use.” Rowan said. 

Unfurled, Merrin realized that the garment was indeed a fortified red leather harness with swathes of fabric and pouches sown into the structure of it. She noted that it was functionally similar to some of the travel harnesses her sisters use to carry their tools and weapons in crossed with Rowan’s own style of armor. A garment made for quick movement and maximum utility. 

“I like it.” Merrin said, nodding. “You would make a good hearth sister, Rowan.” 

“I’ll take that as high praise.” Rowan said, laughing as he turned the harness over and tapped the mechanism built into the back. “My impeccable sense of style aside, this is the crown jewel of the piece. This mechanism is a secure holster for your sphere, nestled into a fabric-kyberite lattice originating here at the small of your back and terminating in the gloves and boots. So now, you should be able to draw on your sphere while keeping your hands free, and as an added note you can adjust the amount of layers you’re wearing at any given time. Quality witching gear no matter the season.” 

“You are very generous for a man Trilla calls a terrorist.” Merrin said, running her fingers down the harness.

“I like a challenge and I like building things for people I like.” Rowan said, a smug grin on his face. “Despite all the trouble you lot have gotten me into, I have to say you, Cal, and the rest have grown on me enough that I don’t have the heart to charge you for my services.” 

“That is good.” Merrin said, patting his cheek. “I wasn’t planning on paying you anyway.” 

??????

Cal’s teeth clattered as they disembarked from the ships and onto the frozen plateau stretching to the horizon. They had landed in the northern reaches of Tython, so close to the planet’s north pole that even the shielded navigation components on their drop ship was thrown off by strangely powerful electromagnetics of the pole. Even that paled to the sheer pressure the planet placed on Cal and the other Force users as they stepped out onto the ice choked ground. To Cal, it was like stepping into intense humidity without any kind of moisture in the dry air. Truthfully, it was electrifying as he felt the planet almost amplify his natural connection to the Force and invigorating him even as the cold wind cut into his skin. 

“Here.” Rowan said, coming from behind to wrap thick woolen scarf around Cal’s neck. “Told you these would come in handy.” 

“Consider me humbled and grateful.” Cal said, teeth chattering as he finished wrapping the scarf around his face. 

“Don’t mention it.” Rowan said, tightening his own scarf as the others filed out after them. 

Only Cal, Merrin, Trilla, Cere, Rowan, and Kella had come down to the planet’s surface as the non Force sensitives were wracked with a worsening head ache the closer they came to the planet. Maybe it was the activated key, now an open twenty sided sphere glowing with an internal violet light, affecting the planet’s attunemnt to the Force, but what ever it was the “normal” members of their crew would have to stay in orbit. Watching for any sign of trouble or anyone else seeking the vault. 

“It’s colder than Escovierian blizzard out here.” Kella cried, her fingers clamped tight around the key as it gently pulsed against the mid day glare. “Where do we go now?” 

“I don’t know, the coordinates on the compass lead to this exact point.” Rowan called, taking out the compass and almost dropping it with his gloved hand. “Is it-” 

Before he could finish speaking, the key pulsed brightly and sent out a narrow beam of violet light across the snow covered ground. The beam raced across the near smooth surface of the ground and over the horizon line. With a sound not unlike a sigh, the key collapsed in on itself around the source of the beam, eventually settling on a perfectly spherical shape as the beam began to pulse brighter and brighter. Cal looked down and saw that a thick line began to spread horizontally around five feet in front of them, and he barely managed to point at it when the line shot off in both directions as fast a pod racer. 

The line was joined by dozens and then hundreds of others as the ice began to shake, collapsing in on itself where the lines intersected. Rowan grabbed onto Kella’s left arm and Merrin her right as the key’s light became almost too bright to handle, and the beam thickened to near a foot in diameter as is screamed out across the growing crevice. With the added support, Kella dug her feet into the slush, the snow melting away to reveal an ornate stone platform, and held the key steady as the world changed around them. Ice turned to water even as it shattered and collapsed filling the growing gap with water before something glowing violet in the depths instantly converted it to steam. 

With a final roar, the last of the ice fell into the ravine and the key’s light went out to be replaced by the soft velvet glow filtering through the mile wide plume of steam coiling into the air. Cal waved his hand forward and pushed some of the steam away with the Force, and stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of what it obscured. Even through the steam, Cal could see a towering pyramid surrounded by the half obscured silhouettes of massive saurian creatures carved out of a faint blue stone. As the harsh winds of the plateau blew away the last of the steam, Cal stood in awe of the complex and the pyramid itself, that looked like it could fit three star destroyers side by side and still have room to spare. 

“Hole E shit.” Rowan said, slack jawed awe on his face as he stepped to the edge of the platform where a long stair case began the descent towards the gate. “That’s...that’s a Star Temple!” 

“So we’re in the right place then?” Merrin asked. 

“Most definitely.” Rowan said, hopping from foot to foot as he barely contained his excitement. “We’re looking at an intact Star Temple, probably the only one left in the entire galaxy!” 

“As amazing as this is, our job is to get it open and secure the Auger.” Kella said, handing Rowan the key, it having transformed back into a twenty sided sphere. “We have no idea if anyone’s on our tail or already lying in wait. Come on.” 

With that, she started down the still steaming steps. 

“Some people just can’t appreciate the moment.” Rowan said, tossing the key up and down as he followed after his sister. 

????

Two miles out from the edge of the Star Temple crater: 

“This Corporal Lancer...of the...” the Imperial officer spat, blood flowing down her face from her nose as she leaned against the comms station. “Requesting...immediate bombardment from orbit. The...area around the anomaly is extremely hazardous to...non...Fo...ack!” 

The words died in her mouth as blinding white flash of pain erupted in her forehead. She collapsed onto the ground and tasted blood as she bit through her lip, only managing to get a hold of herself after a solid minute of struggling. Spitting blood and bile, she pulled herself up to the receiver and returned to her report. 

“Our ship crashed when...the...pilot went into a headache induced seizure.” She reported. “When we crashed...our craft...was...assault-ACK!” 

She screamed out as a long talon stabbed through her back and through her chest. With a sickening lurch, she was pulled into the air and felt hot breath reeking of rotting flesh blasting against the back of her head. The last thought that went through her mind was of her fish tank oddly enough, and just as she realized how ridiculous that was for a last thought something tore out her spine, cutting both the thought and her life short.

?????

“So, there’s no sapients on Tython anymore, right?” Cal asked, as their group traversed the wide courtyard towards the base of the pyramid. 

“No idea.” Rowan said, rolling the key over his hand over and over as they walked. “Not exactly many census takers this in the Core. Why do you ask?” 

“I just have a feeling we’re not alone.” Cal said, a familiar itch tickling the back of neck. 

“Cal, I’m possibly the most paranoid person in the galaxy.” Rowan said, raising an eyebrow. “We’re in the middle of Tython’s global ice sheet, thousands of miles from any of the comforts that make life worthwhile for anything but a Flesh Raider.” 

“A...Flesh Raider?” Cal asked. “Tell me that’s just a joke name you pulled out of your ass.” 

“No it isn’t unfortunately.” Rowan explained. “Horrible creatures Flesh Raiders, devolved Rakata slaves that wondered the wastes of Tython in a by gone era. Hunting any source of protein through even the harshest of environments. Mother used to tell me stories about them when I was being a bratty little shit before bed.” 

“So...they aren’t just bed times stories then?” Cal asked. 

“Oh no, there’s a fascinating archaeological journal about them I have stashed away somewhere.” Rowan explained, mentally searching through his library. “Really nasty stuff too, the bastards were evolved to kill just about anything and then strip the meat from the bone with razor sharp teeth. But you don’t need to worry about them, they were wiped out centuries ago, and the only examples that could be alive today would be living relics of the Rakata.” 

“He says while walking through an unearthed relic that judging by the humming sounds coming from that pyramid is quite obviously a “living relic”.” Trilla said from the front of their formation. 

“What? You think the Rakata left some in the area just waiting for the day someone was stupid enough to reveal the gate to the one thing the Kwa denied them?” Rowan asked. “Please, our lives are hardly so cliché.” 

“Fair enough, but I’d keep an eye out for any long lost beasties.” Trilla said, wiggling her fingers at the pair. “Anyway, if you lot get eyes on any Kyber crystals do speak up, I’d like to have an actual blade before we leave this planet, thank you very much.” 

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Rowan said, rolling his eye. 

A few minutes later, the group arrived at base of a set of steps leading up to a blue crystal control panel before a sealed stone door. The pedestal was made up of dozens of small plates, each inscribed in a runic text and centered around an angular notch at its center. Rowan hopped up the stairs and without any hesitation slapped the key into the notch and hopped back, shielding his face with his arms.

“Expecting it to explode, were we?” Trilla asked as she and the others ascended the stairs behind him.

“You never know these days.” Rowan said, lowering his arms and watching the different crystal plates pulse softly as the key sank into the notch. 

“So, do you have any idea how to actually open this gate?” Cal asked, as the panel began to thrum. 

“Theoretically, yes.” Rowan said, cracking his knuckles as he stepped up to the panel. “There was a combination inscribed into the compass’ inner ring and inside the key itself. All I have to do is activate the correct commands in the correct sequence before the timer counts down and the doorway should be opened.” 

“How long will that take?” Cere asked, scanning the courtyard through a blaster scope. 

“Roughly two hours.” Rowan said. “The Kwa apparently had the typing speed of protocol droids, but thankfully there’s no time limit on entering the commands. Very nice of the saurian bastards if you ask me.” 

“And how much time do we have on the countdown?” Cal asked, looking at the floating script inside of the key. 

“Roughly two and a half hours.” Rowan said with a shrug. 

“Oh.” Cal said. “So we have roughly a thirty minute bit of leeway, then?” 

“Twenty nine minutes now.” Rowan said, already hard at work manipulating the crystal plates with deliberate speed.

“Let’s leave him to it then.” Trilla said. “Cere and I will secure a perimeter. Cal, Kella, and Merrin, you three stay close to Rowan and by the Force you make sure he doesn’t stop until the gate is open, got it?”

“Yes commander!” Kella said, saluting Trilla with all of the venom of a school child accepting a reprimand. 

With that, Trilla nodded to her former master and struck off down the stairs leaving the rest of the group to watch Rowan. He was already lost to the task, singing a melody under his breath to keep track of the sequence as he manipulated the crystal plates. Cal leaned against the side of the pedestal and pulled his scarf tighter against the resurgent cold. 

“Have I said you look fantastic yet?” Cal asked Merrin, as they both ignored Kella’s outraged look as she watched Trilla and Cere walk off. 

“No, but it is appreciated.” Merrin said, twisting her arms and leaving a trail of green flame lingering in their wake. “Rowan put this armor for me, and I am finding it quite nice.” 

“Because I’m the best damn armorer this side of the inner core.” Rowan said, managing the words without slowing his pace what so ever. 

“You know, in most people that constant need to validate your self worth through your utility would be grating.” Kella said, rolling her eyes. “But on you it’s kind of cute.” 

“Kella, I’d flip you off but my hands are occupied.” Rowan said, his gaze darting around the panel. 

“I’ll write it in the minutes for this expedition then.” Kella purred, sticking her tongue out at her brother. 

???????

Trilla threaded her way through a ring of statues, watching the stairway they’d descended at the mouth of the artificial valley as she tapped her pistol against her temple. She didn’t know if it was the intensity of the planet’s connection to the Force or her own sense of paranoia, but Trilla couldn’t quite shake the feeling they were being watched. Something was out there, waiting in the glare of the ice above that much she knew. 

“See anything?” Cere asked, her pack clattering against her back as she balanced her rifle against one shoulder. 

“Not yet.” Trilla said, looking at Cere’s pack. “Pack the entire comm room did we?” 

“I like to be prepared.” Cere said, forcing a smile. “Plenty of ammo and spare parts in case we need them too.” 

“Now that brings me back.” Trilla said as she took cover from the resurgent wind behind a statue. “Remember when I forgot my satchel of Delovar?” 

“Oh yeah, I remember that day because I told you not to forget it, what, five times?” Cere said, a chuckle brightening her face. “Lucky I had an extra credit chit or we’d have been stuck in that noodle bar for another week.” 

“I thought you loved those noodles?” Trilla asked. 

“No way, I still have nightmares about those blasted noodles.” Cere said. “I only said that because you loved eating them.” 

“Cere, I only said that because I thought you did.” Trilla said with a dark chuckle. “When was that? Just after the Corval campaign?” 

“No, it was the Dornfeld campaign.” Cere said, staring off into a memory. “The only reason I remember it is because that was the first time you managed to take down two super battle droids in one swing. I was so proud of you that day, proud of the Knight you were becoming.” 

“Look at us now.” Trilla said, gesturing between them. “Two washed up exiles chasing a super weapon on a relic of a planet.” 

“You’re not washed up.” Cere said, shaking her head. “Trilla, you did the impossible. You came back from the darkness, and stood against what the Empire twisted you into. You lived where so many others died, and now you’re here, fighting for a better tomorrow. Even if you don’t believe it yourself, your story is just beginning.” 

“I’ll start writing it when Rowan finishes my damn arm.” Trill said, gruffly. “And don’t count yourself out, Cere. Without you, I would have killed Cal a long time ago, and you were there to pull me out of the dark, remember? You’re not quite out of chapters to write yourself.” 

“Turning my own words back on me, eh?” Cere said, her hand resting on her pack almost protectively. “I’ll settle for a good end, personally.” 

“Don’t-” Trilla began before something long and metallic cut through the air to interupt her. 

For a moment she couldn’t comprehend what was sticking out of the stone in front of her, but as her mind slowly registered the vicious looking spear sunk eight inches into the stone perfect clarity fell over her. They were under attack, and that realization was followed by two more spears flying through the air. Trilla kicked Cere out of the way and jumped back, the both of them narrowly avoiding being skewered. 

“Who’s attacking us?!” Cere yelled as she rolled into a crouching stance and fired a volley in the direction of the attack. 

Trilla had no time to answer as a dozen lumbering figures came running down the stairway into the artificial valley. Primal fear turned her blood to ice as she caught sight of the...things running at them. They were hulking beasts, like a mix between a hammerhead shark and a flesh golem, wrapped in animals skins and torturous mechanical augments sputtering and sparking as they advanced. The smell of rotting meat filled the air as Trilla raised her blaster, firing a volley of her own at the monsters, only for her blasts to have no affect beyond slowing them down. 

“Damn you Rowan if these are fucking Flesh Raiders!” She cursed, turning on her heel and running away from the monsters, Cere close on her heels. “Tell me you have thermal detonators in that pack.”

“Never leave home without them.” Cere said, plucking two silver orbs out of her pack and tossing them behind her. 

The detonators bounced off the ground and into two of the monsters, a pair of thinner specimens frothing at the mouth. One got caught in a protruding bit of bone in a head piece while the other was swallowed whole by the charging creature. A few seconds later, both of the unfortunate catchers disappeared in a blast of light, viscera, and a cloud of stone debris. That only bought a few moments before Trilla saw the rest of the pack split around the blast zone and increase their speed, the smell of their fallen’s blood in the air driving them into a ravenous frenzy. 

Trilla and Cere reached the stair way to the panel where the others were already gathered. Kella and Cal in defensive stances with their weapons at the ready while Merrin focused swirling green energy between her palms behind them. Merrin slapped her hands onto Kella and Rowan’s shoulders, blasting both with a burst of green energy before the two Jedi rushed forward past Trilla to meet the advancing monsters head on. 

“Cere, cover Merrin while I check on Rowan!” Trilla ordered as she bounded up the stairs, the sounds of light sabers slicing through flesh and blaster fire behind her. 

She found him at the panel, keying in commands faster than she’d thought possible. 

“Flesh Raiders?” He asked, not breaking his stride. 

“I think so.” Trilla said, turning to watch Cal slice through a spear before cutting into its wielder’s leg to almost no effect. “Anyway you can speed this up?” 

“Yes actually.” Rowan said, nodding to a small soft patch just below the notch where the key sat. “That’s some kind of universal input output port by my reckoning. Good news is that I can connect the decryption routines in my eye and use my neural network to input the sequence in about a second.” 

“That sound-” Trilla said, cutting herself off to fire a bolt into the eye stalk of a monster before it could flank Cere. “That sounds lovely, what’s the bad news?” 

“Two things actually.” Rowan said, the strain of keeping up the conversation and the sequence input apparent on his face. “One, I need someone else to stab the input cable into the port and two I’d be exposing my brain to a thirty thousand year old computer system that may or may not be intact.” 

“Sounds like you have a decision to make.” Trilla said. 

“I really don’t.” Rowan said, nodding to a pocket. “The cord’s in there, plug it into my eye and the panel. I can take it from there.” 

Trilla did as he asked, taking the cord out and slipping it into the port in his normally covered eye and without hesitation plugged into the gel like port on the panel. Rowan continued working at the panel for a few seconds before his muscles locked up and with a high pitched yelp he fell forward onto the pedestal. The panel lit up as a rapid sequence of lights played across the plates culminating in a bloom of dark violet light that was bright enough to stun the combatants down below for a moment, only for the temporary silence to be broken by a roar that shook Trilla to her bones. Beams of violet light segmented the doorway and with a deafening crack, the stone fell away to reveal an endless hall way filled with stars. 

“Time to go.” Trilla yelled, grabbing a hold of Rowan and the key as she made for the door.

Cere appeared on Rowan’s other side and helped Trilla haul him towards the door while Merrin teleported Kella and Cal in behind them. Together, the group hauled their collective asses towards the doorway, as they did Trilla looked back to see their pursuers far behind. The monsters transfixed by the glowing gateway, their deformed faces curled in amazement as they chanted something in their guttural language. 

“No need to worry about “living relics”, eh old boy?” Trilla asked as she and Cere dragged Rowan through the gateway, the three of them disappearing into a space between worlds.

??????

Starkiller stood still despite every instinct telling him to run as the sleek black ship opened up to let its passengers off. His father, well the image of his father, stood beside him watching the procession of red clad guards come down the gangplank. He could feel the raw power housed within that ship, felt an entity so filled with hate and malice that it burned Starkiller’s tongue the longer he focused on the ship. If it wasn’t for the new power his father had granted him, Starkiller would have bolted right then and there. But that was not part of his father’s plan.

“Steady yourself, young master.” Proxy said beneath the disguise. “We must not fail Lord Vader.” 

“I know.” Starkiller said. “I know that.” 

Proxy almost spoke again, but before he could another figure stepped out of the ship. If he had been looking with just his eyes, Starkiller would have seen a hunched old man wrapped in an ornate black robe and hood. But as he gazed at the man through the Force, the old man appeared like a hateful red sun, an aberration of acidic distortion eating itself from within. Starkiller bit his lip, using the pain to focus his mind and fight back the instinct to run or vomit at the sight of the thing walking down the gangplank. 

Then the thing turned its gaze on him, and Starkiller felt the oppressive presence a mouse feels as a cat hones in on it. The thing’s lips curled back into a sickly smile as he approached them, slow thanks to the old man’s gate it affected and the four guards surrounding him. When the thing finally reached them, his red eyes focused on Starkiller and he licked his lips before speaking: 

“Lord Vader!” He said in a voice like broken glass and silk as he looked towards the disguised Proxy. “What have you been up to in this tower of yours? I could feel it’s pull from orbit.” 

“Using the knowledge of those who came before me, master.” Proxy said, or maybe his father was speaking through Proxy. “This is no mere castle, through study and experimentation I have created a focus for the Dark Side. In fact, if the right catalyst is used one may even open a doorway into the cosmic Force itself. It is with this power that a doorway to the Auger can be opened.” 

“Excellent my apprentice.” The thing said, venomous delight dripping off every word. “If your claims hold true then you will be worthy of a mighty reward. Tell me, is this precocious lad the catalyst?”

“He is a necessary part of the procedure, master.” Proxy said. “The catalyst for today’s reaction is far more potent than the boy. If you will follow me, I will take you to the staging area where we will embark from when the gate on Tython is opened.” 

“Lead the way, my apprentice.” The thing ordered, his red eyes once again locking onto Starkiller as they began to walk, his guards staying behind to man the door. “Tell me boy, is my apprentice so confident that he would parade an apprentice of his own so openly?” 

“Lord Vader is not over confident.” Starkiller said, panic threatening to overcome him at any moment. “And I am not his apprentice.” 

“Oh?” The thing asked, a wry grin revealing rotted teeth. “I can sense great potential in you boy, but I suppose my apprentice keeps you around for menial chores does he?” 

“No.” Starkiller said as they entered the entry chamber and made for the main stairway. 

“An inquisitorial candidate then?” The thing asked, a rasping laugh sending spittle flying as he spoke. “Though the others may grow jealous if they knew our dear Lord Vader was playing favorites.” 

“Favoritism is hardly a new indulgence among the Sith, master.” Proxy said in his father’s voice. “The boy is a means to and end, a tool to be used in focusing the powers of this castle and of the darkness. He can no more wield a light saber than a farm boy can destroy moons. Have no fear, master, the boy poses no threat to you.” 

“I fear nothing, Vader.” The thing spat. “But I do chafe at insolence.” 

“Of course, master.” Proxy said in his father’s voice. 

“Tell me boy.” The thing said, the jolly malice back in his voice as they descended the stairway towards the heart of the castle. “Has Lord Vader told you of Padme?” 

“Padme?” Starkiller said, phantom memories of his mother rising from the depths of his mind. 

“Oh ho ho.” The thing said. “Vader, how uncharacteristically cunning of you. It would bring a tear of pride to my eye if I still had tear ducts.” 

“You honor me master.” Proxy said, pushing open the thick stone door to the inner sanctum. 

The thing went quiet as they stepped into the sanctum, his red eyes wide with surprise and maybe a touch of fear as he took in the heptagonal room. His gaze flicking over the runes, the inlays of dark red crystal, and finally locking onto the gate at the center of the room. The bacta tank usually at its center was gone somehow and Starkiller could feel the air thrum with power despite not seeing any sign of his father. 

“This is far more potent an altar than you described, Vader.” The thing said, no mockery in his tone now as he stepped closer to the gateway at the center of the room. 

“That is kind of you to say, Emperor.” Proxy said, turning on the thing and slashing down with a suddenly lit light saber. 

Faster than Starkiller thought possible, the thing drew two light sabers from within his robes. Effortlessly parrying Proxy’s strike and with a twirling pivot, slashing through his defenses and cleaving the droid in half. Proxy’s illusion blinked out as his two halves clattered floor, and Starkiller heard his internal mechanics fail with a guttural crunch. The thing looked over Proxy’s halved form and began to chuckle, madness and absolute certainty lighting his eyes as he began to turn around and around. 

“This is what you bring against me Vader?” He asked. “A toy and a child? Tut tut, my apprentice, I thought higher of you than this. I suppose the droid was to distract me so you could sneak a fatal blow from the shadows? Or perhaps you thought to trap me in this chamber like a rat, hm?” 

“No master.” His father’s voice echoed through the sanctum, everywhere at once. “I placed no faith in Proxy nor stone to hold you for even a moment.” 

“Then what?” The thing asked, red eyes searching every nook and cranny for Vader. “Is it the boy? Do you expect him to strike me down? No, even you are not so foolish. I am all of the Sith, Vader, your master in experience and power. Appear before me now and this will be forgiven as an apprentice testing his master’s reflexes. Make me ask again and I will-” 

“What?” His father’s voice asked. “You will do a few flips? Perhaps you’ll cackle like a mad man and drain the essence from young Starkiller there. Your tricks grow old master, and I think it’s time you were retired.” 

“Oh? Where was this confidence when I fished you from the magma and rebuilt you?” The thing spat. “I gave you every-” 

“You took everything from me!” His father’s voice echoed like a thunder clap. “And now, I will take every thing from you.” 

Tendrils of red and black energy leaped out from the shadows, grabbing at the thing’s hands. He raised them, pushing back against the energy with a bubble of force as mad laughter escaped his lips. Only for that laughter to falter when the energy crackled out in a net, growing over his protective bubble until he disappeared in a writhing mass of crackling energy. With a sickening crunch, the mass collapsed in on itself and formed around the thing, burning through his robe to lick at grey scarred skin and draw reddish brown blood. 

“No!” He screamed. “No! No! No!” 

The energies fed back into the gate, and through it Starkiller saw an endless sea of shifting colors and shapes. With a cry of anguish, the thing’s body began to burn and the flames fed into the sea where Starkiller saw glimpses of people and places. An electrifying flood of energy slammed into him, drowning his senses with the images dancing in the gateway. 

“No one’s ever really gone.” He heard a gruff voice say. 

“"But I was going into Tosche Station to pick up some power converters.” He heard a young man say. 

“Let the past die.” He heard another young man, this time gruffer, say. 

“Without me, you'll never be free.” He heard his own voice, at least an older version of his voice say.

Then it was done, and Starkiller senses returned to him. He found himself on his knees, staring over the smoking husk that had once been the Emperor into the still flickering portal at the heart of the gate. But now, a bacta tank had risen out of the base of the gateway and within it stood his father, armored in what looked to be stark white armor.

Only it wasn’t all white, Starkiller watched as blackness darker than any black he’d ever seen spread across the white armor. Unblemished armor was consumed by a wave of black, spreading across the armor like the shadow of an eclipse until his father was a black silhouette cast against the red glow of the chamber. The only light within the tank was a deep red glow from the visor of the helmet, and in that glow Starkiller felt immense pressure as his father’s gaze considered the room. That gaze locked onto the husk on the ground, watching as its chest rose and fell with rasping breath. 

Vader reached forward and pressed his hand against the glass. With a loud crack the tank shattered into a million pieces and fell to the ground as if they were grains of sand as Vader stepped out of the tank he inhaled deeply. He savored the unimpeded breath for a moment before raising a hand, and pulling the three light sabers off the ground, dissembling them in mid air. Starkiller watched as Vader flicked a wrist, separating the red crystals at the sabers’ hearts from the rest of the components and pulling them with him as he walked towards his master.

“Has any one ever told you the tragedy of Darth Sidious the cunning?” He asked in a voice that echoed through Starkiller’s implanted memory, his voice no longer distorted by machinery. “It’s not a story anyone will ever tell again.” 

“Trai...traitor.” The husk rasped. “All I’ve given...all I sacrificed for you.” 

“So says the snake to the scorpion.” Vader said, the crystals floating around him burning bright red as the black slowly over took them. “Starkiller.” 

“Ye...yes father.” Starkiller said, standing up on unsteady feet. 

“Hold out your hand.” Vader said. 

Starkiller obeyed, and was mystified as one of the black crystals appeared over his palm. Light saber components flew at the crystal, clicking together as if they were magnetic pieces of a puzzle, and in less than a minute Starkiller held an unlit light saber. It was a fine weapon, made of dark purples and obsidian infused metals, and when Starkiller ignited it he found that its blade was pitch black. Somehow cold as it cut through the air. 

“You...can’t do this.” The husk on the ground spat. “I am the Sith!” 

“And I am the Sith’s end.” His father said, reaching down and grabbing the husk by the throat to lift him into the air. 

Red bulging eyes stared out from charred eyelids, true fear fighting against rage as Vader turned on his heel and offered the husk to the gate. Tongues of black and red energy leapt out, digging deep into the husk’s flesh and plucking him from Vader’s grip. The husk was dragged back into the gate itself, his form dissolving into ash to be consumed by the sea of color beyond the gate. The husk let out a final scream, a raging protest so strong that it seemed to reverberate through the Force itself as if he were a hateful star going super nova. As the scream faded, Starkiller was again slammed with energy, an answer to his father’s sacrifice, and only managed to stay standing thanks to his father taking him by the arm. 

“Weather it.” He ordered. “Do not let the power overcome you my son, become the river not the stone.” 

Starkiller hung onto his father’s words, let his voice become a pillar to lean on as the energy flowed into him. What could have been a second or a century passed as he breathed in and out, focusing his mind on the power raging through him. Letting the surging power just become another function of his body, another unconscious act that was as natural as breathing. With a final steadying breath, Starkiller straightened and looked up at his father’s masked face. 

“Good my son.” Vader said, reaching up and unclasping his face mask revealing a scarred yet resolute face. “It’s good to look at you with my own eyes.” 

“It’s...it’s good to see you too father.” Starkiller said, unable to stop the smile from forming on his lips. 

“Now my son, we have one last piece of work to do.” Vader said, patting him on the shoulder before turning back to the gate. 

Vader reached toward the crystal console built into the floor, a tongue of black lightning licking across it. It hummed in reply and began to pulse slowly with a dark velvet light. Starkiller watched as the gate at the center of the room began to hum in unison, shifting the visage from the sea of color to a long hallway speckled with stars. 

“Our friends on Tython have performed their part well.” His father said, reaching out with both hands to pluck two freshly constructed sabers from the air. “Ahead of schedule even, shall we grant them a bonus for their expediency?” 

“Yes father.” Starkiller said, igniting his new saber and marveling at the pitch black blade. “I think they deserve a reward.”


End file.
